


Rewind, Repeat

by tulomne



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Clone Wars Spoilers, Dreams/visions of the future, F/M, The year on the run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8087476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tulomne/pseuds/tulomne
Summary: And just like that, Obi-Wan Kenobi dies.But death is just the beginning, he realizes as he wakes as he once was, Padawan braid and all, alongside Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Satine Kryze. Visions of the future, just out of his grasp, plague the young Jedi as the three traverse the galaxy, avoiding the dangers that follow the Duchess of Mandalore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to explore not only that year arc where Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan protect Satine from bounty hunters, but also their characters as a whole, especially those that fuel their devotions to the causes they've dedicated their lives to.

In his youth, he often wondered where he would take his last stand. It was understandable, during wartime, to think this way, and as the Jedi were slaughtered by friends and foe alike, it became all the more apparent to live in this mindset. Over time it occupied no more than a passing thought, consuming less of his time than a tiny itch in the back of his mind.

But here, now, in front of his friend, his enemy, he knows it’s the end. So his eyes shut, he exhales deep, and he lets go.

And just like that, Obi-Wan Kenobi dies. He feels no pain, his senses leave him the moment Vader’s blade touches his skin. He seems to vanish from sight, from reality. He’s nowhere. And suddenly, he’s _everywhere_. Above his discarded cloak and lightsaber, down the halls of the Death Star, and surrounding the hangar, where Luke stands, shocked, eyes fixed at where he once stood. The door between Vader and the hangar closes, and the firefight continues. The boy isn’t leaving, even after his friends have retreated to the ship. He has to _go_ , there’s no _time_.

_Run, Luke, Run!_

Luke looks up. Had he heard him? Luke makes for the _Falcon_. The ship ascends from its position in the hangar, maneuvering away from the incoming blasterfire. Obi-Wan watches as the ship makes its way out of the Death Star, feeling the jolt as the ship lurches forward into space-

He drops to his hands and knees, landing on the hard ground with a force that jarrs his bones. A shout shocks him into reality, and his senses flood back through his system. The air is cold and biting, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. His hands are scuffed, and his knees protest their collision with the rocky ground. In front of him, sprawled out and clutching her ankle, is Satine Kryze.

It all clicks. The location, the scene. He’s been here before, tries to think of what happens next but comes up with nothing. He paws at the side of his head, running his hand through his too-short hair until he can feel it. His Padawan braid. Draboon. On the run. With Satine. And-

A figure appears beside him to gather Satine into their arms. Obi-Wan turns toward them, and comes face to face with his former Master.

“Hurry, Obi-Wan, we haven’t much time!” Qui-Gon urges him. Obi-Wan scrambles to his feet, following in line behind him. He’s at a loss for words, wants to stop everything to figure out what exactly just happened, but the more he thinks about it, the less he can remember. He recalls a lightsaber, bright red against black armor. And a boy. The images slip through his fingers, like a strange dream.

“I can’t believe you _dropped_ me.” a voice calls from ahead of him. That voice. It’s been far too long. But why, he can’t recall. He lets out a frustrated huff.

“Patience,” His Master warns. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to reply - his frustration isn’t with Satine - but falls silent as Qui-Gon continues. “We must reach shelter before nightfall.”

The sun is low on the horizon already, or at least that’s what Obi-Wan can sense. The sky is a muted grey, tinging the entire area in a monochromatic gloom. The area is foggy, and he can’t see much other than the thick trees surrounding him. They trudge along in silence, each attempt at remembering what had happened before his fall comes back with fewer results.

They set up camp at the edges of the treeline, far uphill from the forest they had been passing through. There’s a long cut up Satine’s leg from where she scraped it against the rock. Qui-Gon does the best with what he has to bandage it. All the while Obi-Wan watches. There’s an overwhelming sadness about the two, but he doesn’t understand why.

He shifts restlessly in his spot across the fire from them. Qui-Gon is focused, wrapping the bandage around Satine’s leg with the utmost care. Satine watches the fire, unblinking, brow creased in thought. Her arms are crossed in her lap, and she absentmindedly pulls at the fringe on the sleeve of her dress. The iridescent fabric shimmers against the glow of the fire, almost like liquid. A vast contrast to the neutral tones and weathered robes that the Jedi wear. Her gaze flicks up to his.

“You’re staring.” They both avert their eyes, Satine tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear and Obi-Wan bunching his hands in his sleeves. Qui-Gon finishes wrapping her wound, giving Obi-Wan a warning glance before taking his place between the two. They had never been on the best terms, even before their time on the run. Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if it was some distaste for Jedi, or just himself as a person that made Satine so distant. He figures the latter, due to her muted pleasantry towards his Master.

“I’m sorry-” Obi-Wan starts, voice too loud against the quiet of the night. “-about dropping you, I mean. It won’t happen again.” His face twists. Not exactly what he meant to say. A glance to Qui-Gon. He watches in silence, expression unreadable. Returning to Satine, his face hot from the fire and the slight embarrassment, he tries again. “Are you alright?”

Her gaze softens. “I’m fine.” She replies. “If luck has it, I won’t be needing your rescue attempts anytime soon.” Obi-Wan’s resentment for her choice in words is negated by Satine’s small smile. She turns her attention to Qui-Gon. “How much longer must we wait? It’s been months. I can’t imagine bounty hunters would wait this long without giving up or moving on.”

“You underestimate the bounty on your head, Duchess.” Qui-Gon replies. Satine frowns, obviously expecting another answer.

“I worry about my people.” She presses. “I’ve been too long out of contact. I fear for the worst.”

“I’m afraid it’s far too dangerous,” Qui-Gon replies. “The uprising is still beyond our control, and we cannot guarantee your safety. When the enemy has been defeated, you may return.”

Satine’s face twinges with disgust, turning back towards the fire. “I don’t like this. We are a peaceful people, we have no place in war anymore.”

“All the more reason for you to stay where you are,” He responds. “You cannot be accused of hypocrisy if you are absent during a time when war is the only option.” Satine’s mouth forms a tight line. Obi-Wan sighs. Politics. Like it truly matters that she isn’t present during this time. He hopes she realizes how much of a charade her nonviolence is. Just because she isn’t making the decisions doesn’t mean she’s absolved of their consequences.

“Something you wish to say, Kenobi?” He blinks. He’s been staring again.

“W-We need to get off this planet.” Obi-Wan scrambles to change the subject. “We can’t let them starve us out. Two bounty hunters were hard enough. We’re hardly prepared if they bring company.”

“You are correct, my young Padawan.” Qui-Gon agrees. “We must move on. There’s a village close by that we can gather information tomorrow. Hopefully the nearest docking station is not far along.” Silence falls on the trio. What they’ll do after they leave, none can say. “I’ll take the first watch.” the Jedi Master offers. “You need your rest.”

Obi-Wan can’t argue with that. His head’s still spinning from his fall earlier today. He takes one last glance at Satine before he heads off to bed. Her eyes are fixed on the fire.

He spends his night trying to recall what had happened earlier that day, but by now he’s completely forgot what had made him lose all focus. He wakes midway through the night, allowing his Master some relief in order to take his turn watching the woods for signs of life. Other than the creatures rustling through the trees, and the soft sighs of his companions sleeping, he hears nothing until dawn, when the two awake. At least, it’s assumed dawn. The grey of the night lightens, and although the sun still cannot be seen, the sounds of the forest increase, and the temperature raises, if only slightly. Their morning meal consists of the last of their ration bars, sticking to their throats and not filling their stomachs in any satisfying way.

The village is a short walk up the rest of the hill, high above the treeline where the air is thin and the wind cold. There’s no sign of a docking station, let alone any ships. The three make their way up the rocky path to the town.

Satine is limping, each step up the stone stairs taking her a second too long. The ornate shoes she wears are not meant for a place like this, even without her injury. Obi-Wan hesitates, opening his mouth to speak.

“I’m fine, Kenobi.” Satine cuts him off. “Your Jedi expertise is not needed. I can handle stairs.” Obi-Wan frowns, and Satine smirks at his response.

“Why do I have a feeling it’ll be a while before you let this go.” He comments.

“I don’t have a clue what you mean,” She smiles, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Obi-Wan glances back to his Master. Qui-Gon raises his eyebrows in amusement, clearly entertained by their back and forth.

They reach the top of the stairway, opening to a small village. The large chunks of rock that jut out of the ground have been used to create their town. The buildings are created with perfectly slotted stone, each piece worn down to fit among one another. The roofs are sturdy tree trunks from the forest below, latched onto the stone through the holes drilled through the building walls. The wind whips about the town, stinging their skin, but the buildings stay sound.

Several species of humanoid wander about the town, but the majority look almost like they’re carved from the stone itself. Their dark grey, bumpy skin covers their bald head, and a large ridge protrudes over their first set of eyes, pale yellow and pupiless. Their second set resides just below the first, the eyes pitch black in color and unblinking.

Satine makes her way over to a local shopkeeper. Fabrics and garments of all walks of life hang from her store’s roof. A tradesperson. She eyes up the group before they get close.

“I don’t want any trouble,” she warns, pausing from her work and eyeing the Jedi’s lightsabers. Her voice is gruff, and she flexes her hands, seemingly uneasy with their approach. Satine opens her mouth to speak.

“-We’re looking for your port. Where can we find a ship that can take us offworld?” Obi-Wan begins. The local narrows her eyes.

“And what makes you think I’ll tell you?” she retorts, looking back and forth between the two.

“You don’t need anything from us.” Obi-Wan gestures, attempting to sway the shopkeeper’s opinion. She looks unfazed.

“Pardon my friend.” Satine interrupts. “He sometimes forgets his place.” At her voice, the local’s gaze softens. Satine reaches up to her neck, unclasping her necklace and presenting it to the humanoid. “For your troubles. We’re only looking for information.” She turns it over in her hands before looking back to Satine.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Obi-Wan turns towards Qui-Gon, who gives him a shrug in response. The three follow her into the shop, and leave with new clothes, location of the nearest port, and a name of a pilot to find. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan discard their Jedi robes for something less conspicuous. Simple pants and hooded tunics, in dark greys and dull blues.

Satine emerges from the shop last, wearing clothes of a similar fashion. Her entrance makes Obi-Wan do a double take. Without her royal attire, she’s different. More human, maybe. She runs a hand through her hair, now undone from its intricate arrangement beforehand. It falls just about past her shoulder blades, curling delicately at the edges. He looks away before he’s chastised for staring again. They exit the town on the other side of where they entered, headed towards the spaceport.

Obi-Wan follows shortly behind Qui-Gon and Satine, trying to piece together what had just happened. Is Satine Force-sensitive? Why is Qui-Gon not questioning her actions? She glances back, catching his befuddled expression before he has a chance to compose himself. She smiles.

“The people of Draboon are matriarchal.” Satine mentions. “She didn’t take kindly to you speaking on my behalf.” When Obi-Wan fails to respond in time, she continues, smile fading slightly. “Not everything must be solved by force. People can be reasoned with.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I’m afraid I didn’t have time to research the planet we were _marooned on_.” he retorts. “And by all means, if you want to spend time making friends with everyone we run into, fine by me. Just don’t get upset when their intentions aren’t as pure as you thought them to be. If I’m correct, that’s the exact reason we’re in this situation.”

Satine sighs sharply, moving at a quicker pace until she’s out of earshot. Obi-Wan takes his place at Qui-Gon’s side.

“It’s naive. To assume conflict can be resolved so easily every time.” He regrets the words once they leave his mouth. The argument sounds childish relaying it to his Master. Qui-Gon sighs.

“It’s not our duty to discuss politics.” He beings. “She is under our protection, and I’m going to need you to stay by her side. There’s something larger at play here, and I intend to get to the bottom of it. You are her guardian until she can be returned home. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan responds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sassy Kenobi but also unexperienced childish Kenobi is hard to write ugh ;;


	2. Chapter 2

They reach the spaceport by the end of the day. Draboon is made up of rocky mountains, and the tiny dirt path they follow winds around the peaks, sometimes bordering precariously on the edges of the hillsides. The mountains are mostly chunks of rock sticking out of the ground, with small patches of grass and wildflowers carpeting the areas between. The air is thin and cold, and their garments don’t do much to keep the chill at bay. They see the town on the horizon well before they reach it. Qui-Gon ventures ahead, deciding that Satine stay back in order to avoid her being seen by the general public. Even without her formalwear, they are foreigners to this world, bound to attract attention, and word can travel fast. Obi-Wan and Satine find a large enough rock formation to hide themselves from the path and await Qui-Gon’s return.

Obi-Wan makes a point to not look at Satine. He watches the horizon, checks the path that they’ve come from without making himself visible, and fiddles with his comlink.

“You’re avoiding me.” She comments from her spot on a boulder she’s leaned up to rest against. Her injured leg is tucked under her body, and her hand absentmindedly rubs at the spot Qui-Gon bandaged. It’s probably still bothering her.

“I’m keeping watch.” He begins, almost irritatedly. It seems he gets called out whether he’s giving her attention or not. “We’re in trouble if someone happens upon us. We’d likely be outnumbered, and you can’t protect yourself.”

“I can protect myself just fine.” She stands, approaching him in his periphery.

“You seem to forget why I’m here.” He comments, turning towards her. “Are you telling me you’re going to _reason_ with your kidnappers?”

“I’m _not_ defenseless.” She counters. “I can hold my own.” Her gaze is steady, defiant against Obi-Wan’s accusations. He smiles.

“Then prove it.” He takes a step back, giving them more space to move around.

“You want me to fight _you_ ,” She starts. “A _Jedi Knight?_ ”

“Only a Padawan,” he reminds her. “Those after you would at least be as experienced.” Satine looks him over, a pang of...something jolts through his system.

“No lightsabers. No Force powers.” The questions are more of a statement than anything.

“A fair fight.” He responds.

Satine backs up, glancing behind her so she doesn’t trip on any of the rocks littering the ground. She takes a fighting stance, albeit an uneasy one. Her eyes dart across his body, unsure where to focus. He settles into his own ready position, waiting for her to make the first move. She shifts position, attempting to find a more comfortable position to put her feet. She’s concentrating hard, arms splayed at her sides, crouched in a slight squat.

It’s electrifying, seeing her like this. She seems so focused, so direct compared to her roundabout ways discussing politics. Her body is tensed, waiting to spring. He shifts slightly, moving his weight from one foot to the other. He tries to lessen his connection to the Force. It’s good practice anyways, he figures.

Satine lurches forward, clumsy and leaving herself wide open for a counterattack. Obi-Wan smirks. He counters, dodging and turning to grab her arm. She plants her injured foot with surprising stability, leaving her other to land a swift kick to his gut. He lands hard on his back, almost knocking the wind from his lungs.

When he opens his eyes, Satine stands before him. In her hands is his lightsaber, plucked from his belt before he fell. It dawns on him as she glances down at him, easy smile on her face.

“You _hustled_ me…” He begins as she reaches down to help him up.

“You underestimated me.” She replies. Obi-Wan frowns.

“A nice trick, but it won’t hold when you’re up against a group.” he counters. “Or in the middle of battle.” Her eyes narrow.

“War doesn’t have to be an option. The moment you decide someone’s life is expendable is the moment we all fail.” Satine furrows her brow. “Jedi are peacekeepers, surely you must understand _some_ of that.”

“We fight when we must.” Obi-Wan replies. “There’s a time when diplomacy can only go so far.”

“We’re on the verge of war.” Satine argues. “Can’t you feel it? Can’t you see what you’ll become? Great General Kenobi, sworn by the Jedi Order to dissolve conflict and promote peace. That is, when it’s easy.”

“And Grand Duchess Satine,” Obi-Wan shoots back. “Watching from her palace while her people fall to ruin under her apathetic gaze. Tell me, _Duchess_ , what will you fight for? Is there anything that’ll make you take a stand?”

“Listen to yourself. You think the only way to show devotion is by battle. When will you see? There’s more than one way to show loyalty.”

Satine presses the lightsaber into Obi-Wan’s outstretched hand with more force than necessary before returning to her position on the rock. He clips it to his belt before dusting the dirt off of his back. Ridiculous. It seems there’s nothing he can to do make her happy.

They pass the time in awkward silence, nothing but the howling wind keeping them company. Obi-Wan checks his comlink. Still functional. Nothing to worry about, for now. Satine sits on the ground, knees drawn in to her chin.

“It‘s cold.” she comments, rubbing her arms, trying to get some kind of warmth. He glances towards her, keeping his position at the edge of their hideout. “Where did you come from? Is your home planet like this?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Obi-Wan replies. “I have no memories of it.”

“Oh.” Satine’s hands go to her knees, pulling at a stray thread on her pants. “Kalevala is warm. Almost unbearably so. But the nights get so cold.” Her smile falters. “I haven’t been there in a while.”

“Hopefully when all this is over, you will return.” He offers. How he got from arguing with her to comforting her, he doesn’t know. Perhaps her skills at conflict resolution are better than he originally thought.

“Unlikely. I will remain on Mandalore until my time as Duchess has passed.” She meets his eyes. “It’s a small sacrifice, but one I’m willing to make.” They share a small smile before Obi-Wan’s comlink crackles to life.

“I’ve found us a ship.” Qui-Gon’s voice hums over the small speaker. “Head to the port, we will meet and go from there.”

“Yes, master.” Obi-Wan responds. He pockets the device and extends a hand towards Satine. “Shall we, Duchess?” She takes his hand.

“Certainly, Kenobi.”

They meet Qui-Gon outside the town’s borders. The area is significantly busier, with people coming and going off planet from the many ships outside. There’s no hanger, and the ships lay in an unorganized sprawl across the mesa adjacent to the town. Obi-Wan and Satine pull their hoods over their heads to match Qui-Gon. No doubt Obi-Wan’s Padawan braid and Satine’s shock of blond hair would attract attention.

Their pilot is a sleepy-eyed Toydarian, who seems to flutter at an incredibly slow pace, and drops into his chair at his first chance. His ship is a small freighter, carrying supplies of all different sizes and legalities. Definitely not meant for transport. They’re given space in the cargo hold, but allowed to wander about the ship, so long as they don’t touch anything. By the time the ship takes off, the day is nearly done. Not that it matters once they reach the empty expanse of space.

Satine curls up against one of the large crates in the cargo hold, choosing a few hours of fitful sleep over the Jedi’s company. Obi-Wan finds a place to sit on the other side of the hold, far out of earshot of the Duchess. He leans against the ship’s wall, eyes shut, letting the events of the last two days wash over him.

“I thought I would see you happier after leaving Draboon.” Qui-Gon quips, taking a seat opposite his Padawan.

“It’s been quite the journey.” Obi-Wan tries to mask his exhaustion in his tone. Qui-Gon smiles warmly.

“You seem troubled,” He comments.

“I’m not sure,” Obi-Wan responds. “Sometimes I wonder why we’re on this mission. Are we no more than hired hands at this point? We aren’t negotiating anything. It seems that simple bodyguards could manage this job just as efficiently as us.”

“Jedi aren’t only used for negotiation.” Qui-Gon begins. “There are times when people need protecting. We do not focus on one kind of work because we are not one kind of Jedi. What we do all have, is the Force. Our connection with it gives us the advantage for whatever job we are given.” The answer hangs in the air, unabsorbed and discarded. “But I have a feeling that’s not the only thing on your mind. There is much conflict about you.”

“I apologize, Master.” Obi-Wan admits. “But I’m afraid my mind has been clouded. Something happened yesterday. Something I do not yet know how to describe.”

He glances up at his Master. Qui-Gon stares back, expectant, inviting him to go on.

“I had a dream...or a vision...but I can’t recall any of it. But I can _feel_ it. Almost like a warning, but to what, I do not know.” He explains. Qui-Gon is quiet for a moment, seeming to soak in the information he’s been presented.

“I’ll admit,” He begins. “I can draw no conclusions from what you’ve been given. But meditate on this, and if you can gain any more information, keep me informed.” He reaches out, resting his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Be not afraid. Visions are common among the Jedi. They should be embraced. When the Force gives you the opportunity to go beyond what you’ve seen, you should claim it, not hide from it.”

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan responds. Qui-Gon smiles.

“You are a powerful Jedi,” He comments. “I believe you can do this.”

“Thank you, Master.” Qui-Gon stands, ruffling the Padawan’s hair as he rises.

“You should get some rest.” He says, walking back toward the cargo hold doors. “I will watch over the Duchess.” Obi-Wan nods.

 

He’s ripped from his unconsciousness, a firestorm of senses washing over him. He can hear blasterfire and TIE fighters, smell the smoke of X-wings and jet fuel, and before him lies the largest ship he’s seen in his entire lifetime. His time in the back of the Toydarian’s freighter feels like moments ago, and at the same time he can recall a lifetime of memories between then and now. This is familiar. It’s happened before. He’s everywhere at once. In every cockpit, battle station, and gun turret in the area, as well as the vast expanse of space. And in the midst of it all is Luke Skywalker.

A pang of sorrow hits Obi-Wan’s chest at the sight of the young boy. He never got the chance to teach Luke the way he wanted to. He watches as the other X-wings are taken out, one by one, by the enemy ships. And Obi-Wan can feel a familiar presence, knows that it’s none other than the man who had cut him down days earlier. Luke projects a sense of calm, but underneath Obi-Wan can sense a jumble of nerves. Worry. Fear. His hands slip on the grips of his X-wing. He blinks the sweat out of his eyes.

_Use the Force, Luke._

He doesn’t mean to say it. But Luke jolts at Obi-Wan’s thoughts. Luke pauses, eye-level to the targeting computer he had been attempting to use moments before.

_Let go, Luke._

It’s getting easier and easier to call to him.

_Luke, trust me._

Luke shuts down his targeting system. Over his comlink Obi-Wan hears someone ask what’s wrong.

“Nothing,” Luke replies. “I’m alright.”

The sky lights up like a supernova, a noise that rips Obi-Wan’s senses away. His omniscience dies in the explosion of the Death Star, and everything fades to black.

 

He wakes with a gasp, soaked in sweat, with a figure looming over him. Obi-Wan scrambles up against the wall, trying to put distance between him and whoever had cornered him. His hand goes to his lightsaber, and only when he has it unclipped and his finger on the activation stud does he recognize the person in front of him.

“You were having a nightmare.” Satine comments, retracting her hand and sitting back on her knees. She had been reaching for him to comfort, not harm. He can’t say anything, focusing entirely on getting his heartbeat down to a normal pace. His mind is racing, thoughts of X-wings and explosions dancing behind his eyelids, all fleeting. The harder he tries to concentrate, the quicker he seems to forget.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” She tries again, leaning forward but hesitating at the last moment. Obi-Wan tries to compose himself.

“Nothing.” He manages. “I’m alright.” The dose of deja vu makes his head spin.

“You’re an awful liar.” Satine comments. Obi-Wan tries to sit up more comfortably, but can’t do so with the way Satine’s kneeled, leaning into his space. The lights from the cargo bay doors illuminate her from behind, outlining her silhouette and making his heartbeat pick up all over again.

“Do you want me to get Master Qui-Gon?” She asks.

“No,” He shuffles to the side, out of her proximity. “No, that’s quite alright. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” She concedes. “Just...Let me know if I can help.” Her voice is sobering. A gust of cool air blows through the hold, allowing the wind to soothe his flushed face. “Everyone has nightmares from time to time. Even Jedi Knights.”

“Only a Padawan.” He reminds her, absentminded smile on his lips.

“Hmm” she hums to herself, standing and turning back to her place in the hold. “Good night, Kenobi.”

“Duchess.” He regards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't make me say Stewjon I refuse


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always end up using the same two or three planets in my stories, sorry guys. Took some liberties here and there. There’s only so much I can research until I decide fuck it, I’ll just write it.  
> Also fixed a few things with names in the last few chapters, I forgot Satine’s surname isn’t used when she’s addressed as Duchess.

“ _Nar Shaddaa?_ ” Obi-Wan hopes he conveys his disbelief, concern, and plain disgust in his tone.

“Like I said,” Qui-Gon responds as the ship jumps out of hyperspace. “We don’t know if our followers left Draboon. The best thing to do is get lost in a crowd.”

“A crowd of _bounty hunters?_ Surely you can find another location for us to stay hidden.”

“Not from our choices on Draboon. We must make use of what we have.” Obi-Wan sighs, mouth in a pinched line. It’s not unusual for Qui-Gon to take risks, but even for him this plan seems unreasonable. However, there’s not much he can do, as the ship lowers itself into the moon’s atmosphere.

Satine appears beside the two Jedi at the entrance ramp.

“I’m not sure if you’re familiar with protecting people from bounty hunters,” She quips. “Usually it doesn’t involve taking them to said bounty hunters.”

“Keep your hood up and your head down.” Qui-Gon replies, ignoring her comment. He disappears for a moment to pay the Toydarian his second fee - the one for keeping them alive for the entire trip - after which they step off onto the landing platform. Satine brings her hand to her face, trying to avoid coughing in the smog-filled air.

“Definitely not Coruscant.” She manages to get out.

“You have no idea.” Obi-Wan replies.

They find themselves in a backalley lodge, all dark corridors, flickering lights, and no-questions-asked service. They have two rooms, the Jedi residing on one side, with Satine on the other, a door connecting their adjacent walls. They don’t bother checking out the living spaces before heading to the nearest cantina. Qui-Gon mentions he is meeting with someone who might have information about who is tracking the Duchess, and Obi-Wan and Satine come along to avoid splitting up. Qui-Gon takes his place at the bar, cool gaze washing over the crowd, waiting for his connection to join him, while the younger two take a spot in one of the curved couches nearby the dance floor.

Obi-Wan tries to relax, tries to lose himself in the hazy lights and too-loud music that rattles his ears, but he knows he attracts attention. His grip on his drink is a little too tight, his eyes are too searching. Truthfully, he doesn’t trust Qui-Gon’s decision to bring them here. Not to this bar. Not to this _planet_. It doesn’t help that despite their distance from Coruscant, the Jedi Master feels completely at home. He’s a gambler of sorts, putting more faith in non-Force users than any Jedi would dare attempt. He relies on the unreliable, bets on the indiscernible. Obi-Wan can’t tell if it’s luck or skill that keeps his Master in motion, and it puts him on edge to no end.

But that’s nothing compared to Satine. Despite her unmentionable garb and attempt to keep to herself, she stands out. It’s her posture, her commanding presence, that makes bar goers take a second look. Obi-Wan finds himself sending piercing looks to those that try to come closer to them, projecting his thoughts as well as he can. _This is a private party. Move along._

Not that he can blame them. Her silky hair that peeks out from underneath her hood glitters in the lights of the cantina, much like her dress once had. That, her slight frame, and the delicate but deliberate way she stirs her drink no doubt attracts a few onlookers. He finds himself watching her almost as often as he watches the crowd.

And for some reason, it feels like something’s shifted. Perhaps it’s the change in scenery, or the relaxed yet in-charge presence of the Duchess, that makes Obi-Wan sweat beneath his collar and scramble for something to say over the band that plays in the corner. He takes a healthy swig of his drink, wishing it were stronger to block out his confusion.

“I bet you never imagined you’d end up here,” He begins.

“Better than Draboon.” Satine returns. She looks Obi-Wan up and down, sending another pang of anxiety through his system. “And what about you? Mostly stick to the temple at Coruscant?” Obi-Wan clears his throat.

“I’ve made it to the central system a few times,” He replies. “But only on missions.” He takes another sip of his drink.

“I figured. I can’t imagine seeing you out on a dance floor.”

He snorts into his cup, feeling his face warm. “No. No I can’t imagine you would.”

Satine takes a slow sip of her drink, holding eye contact with Obi-Wan until she’s finished.

“Are you asking me to _dance_ , Duchess?”

Satine laughs. It’s a light, fluttering noise that makes him feel foolish. “Of course not, Kenobi. That’s highly inappropriate.” Okay, even more foolish. He narrows his eyes, trying to calm the color that’s risen to his cheeks. She _had_ meant it like that. She just wanted him to embarrass himself.

“Looks like your Master’s got company.” She mentions. Obi-Wan looks back to where Qui-Gon sits at the bar, now accompanied by a hooded figure. He can’t get a good look at his Master’s acquaintance with their back turned to him, but he can read Qui-Gon’s expressions. All calm and collected, as he expects from his Master.

Qui-Gon’s eyes flick to Obi-Wan’s just for a moment. Shortly after he gestures, an insignificant movement to the untrained eye, but Obi-Wan recognizes it.

“We should go.” He says, taking a final sip of his drink. “Qui-Gon wants us out of here.”

“Why?”

“I would like to know myself.” He glances around the room, and that’s when he sees them. Someone watching the two from the corner of the room. One of the several bar goers he had been keeping tabs on. The ones who stared a little too long. Who seemed a little too uneasy. They wear a skin tight suit, the only part of their person visible being their dark eyes. It only takes a moment before the stranger begins heading towards the exit. Obi-Wan glances back at Qui-Gon. He meets his gaze, the slightest inclination of his Master’s head confirming his suspicions. He stands, waiting for Satine to join him. His silence keeps her from commenting on his strange behavior. They move towards the exit, casually meandering between the people in the crowd.

The stranger breaks into a sprint the moment they leave the cantina.

“Go!” Obi-Wan calls to Satine. They both follow after them, weaving in and out of the people on the busy street. He’s not sure what this person represents, why Master Qui-Gon urged him to follow them, but he hopes he’ll soon find out.

What he does find, as he rounds the next corner, is a trap. A taser stave is jabbed hard into his ribs before he can react. He uses the last of his willpower over his failing body to knock the blaster out of his assailant’s hands before collapsing on the concrete. Satine enters the scene briefly after, tumbling across the floor to grab the blaster before their enemy can reach it. She aims it at the stranger, who stands between her and Obi-Wan. There’s a moment of pause, the only sound coming from the sparking of the stave. Satine’s hood had fallen down, and her hair seems to glow in the lights of the city. The stranger locks eyes with the Duchess, fabric pulling tight across where their mouth would be. A smile.

With their free hand, the stranger reaches into their pocket, eyes steady on Satine’s. Her hands are shaking. The stranger takes a step back as they raise a communicator to their lips.

“Shoot them!” Obi-Wan shouts, still immobilized, electricity sparking through his system. Every motion is aggravating. He tries to pull himself up onto his arms. It’s a futile effort.

The stranger speaks a foreign tongue, but a few words ring clear: _Duchess Satine_. Another step, two more, and they begin walking backwards, eyes still trained on Satine’s shaking figure. A few steps more, and they turn to run, leaving the two alone in the alley.

Satine drops the blaster, staring at her shaking hands, seemingly unaware of Obi-Wan crumpled on the floor. Obi-Wan focuses on letting the last volts exit his system before he gets up.

“You let them go,” He comments, trying to hold a commanding posture while ignoring his body’s protests. She jumps slightly at his voice.

“I’m _aware_ they escaped.” Satine replies as she gets to her feet. She matches his gaze, glaring, her arms crossed in front of her.

“Escape isn’t what happened. _You let them go._ ” Satine opens her mouth to speak, but Obi-Wan interrupts her. “-And now? They know where you are. You just put all of our lives in danger. Your antics are going to get us all killed. Put your political views aside, it’s time you _grew up_.”

Qui-Gon rounds the corner just as Obi-Wan turns back towards the main street. Obi-Wan doesn’t give his Master a moment to speak.  
“Master,” Obi-Wan regards him as he passes by, and disappears into the crowd.

He wanders aimlessly throughout the city. He keeps his head low, his hand on the lightsaber at his hip, and tries to calm the tangle of emotions racing through his system. He’s frustrated. Never before had he had issues with emotional connections. But everything she does clouds his judgement. Why does he care so much about the way she sees the world? Why does he want her to understand his side so badly? Why can’t she just take the only path that actually works in a world like this? All his questions go unanswered, and he walks until his legs ache.

It’s several hours later by the time Obi-Wan returns to the Jedi’s room. Qui-Gon sits on his bed in meditation. He opens one eye to watch his padawan cross the room. He says nothing, but slowly moves to lay down to sleep. Obi-Wan takes his place, keeping watch over the Duchess in the other room. He can’t hear her, can’t see her, but can feel her presence. A calming, offline state as she sleeps. He sits, cross-legged on his own bed, closing his eyes and letting his mind clear. Whatever frustrations he feels towards the Mandalorian he sets aside for the time being. This is his job, his purpose, and he will not allow his feelings to get in the way of it. Outside, the moon buzzes with activity, even in the middle of the night. Does the side of this world that never sees sunlight even have the concept of day? Nar Shaddaa seems never-ceasing, full of strangers seizing any opportunity they can to move up in their corrupt chain of command.

He tries to sift through the thoughts and emotions of the people out on the street, attempting to pick out any deviations that might have to do with the Duchess. He’s completely unprepared for the explosion that takes out the outside wall of Satine’s room. The two Jedi are thrown from their places on their beds, but Obi-Wan is the first through the connecting door. He searches frantically around the rubble-covered room until his eyes lock on the ship hovering outside what used to be her window. Satine struggles against the arms of the bounty hunter holding her captive as they drag her inside the ship. She elbows her attacker hard in the eye, and receives a sharp punch to the gut in return. It’s a short distance, and Obi-Wan easily makes it onto the ship’s ramp as they begin to ascend. He’s turning back towards Qui-Gon, reaching for his lightsaber, when it flies out of his hand. His Master catches it, standing in Satine’s room, staring up at the ship slowly rising into the sky. Obi-Wan stands at the closing ramp, shocked, as he waits for Qui-Gon to react. His Master doesn’t even seem like he’s preparing to jump onto the ship.

_Meet me on Dagobah._

Qui-Gon’s words ring loud and clear in his mind, and everything goes dark.

 

His vision slowly returns to him, fading from black to blinding white. Memories flood his mind, the life he’s lived since that night on the Smuggler’s Moon. He still feels senseless, without touch or smell, but more focused of some sort. Instead of everywhere, among the snow dunes and blizzard-ridden skies, he’s centralized to one spot, a short distance in front of Luke. The young Skywalker lies in the snow, bleeding and half frozen to death. A thousand thoughts are at the tip of Obi-Wan’s tongue. He has so much to say. Time has passed strangely in more ways than one. It seems like months, perhaps even years, since his last time speaking to the boy.

“Luke,” Obi-Wan’s voice comes out strikingly clearer than before. “Luke.”

The boy raises his head only slightly. He can see Obi-Wan.

“Ben?”

Oh, right. He had gone by that name. Why he had changed his given name, but kept his surname he was never sure. ‘Obi-Wan’ was given to him from the Order, and perhaps he felt he didn’t deserve to go by something that was for all intents and purposes, dead and gone. It did not matter. It had been years since he had responded to ‘Obi-Wan’. That man had died the same night Anakin had. When he became Vader, Anakin ceased to exist, and perhaps Obi-Wan had met the same fate.

Qui-Gon’s words still echo in his mind, he finds himself speaking before he thinks.

“You will go to the Dagobah system.”

“Dagobah system?” Good. He’s still responding. He hopes his thoughts of _stay alive_ reach him along with his indeterminable commands.

“There you will learn from Yoda, the Jedi Master who instructed me.”

He wants to say more, to apologize, to console, to stay until Luke has found safety, but he feels his senses fading to black. The last thing he can hear is Luke calling his name.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Props to my friend Jen for reviewing all of these despite never seeing the Clone Wars series and, until yesterday, episodes 1-6 of the movies...

Obi-Wan awakes in a holding cell. How long has it been? A few hours? Days? He stays perfectly still, taking in his surroundings without opening his eyes. He can feel the hum of an energy field surrounding him, and his head throbs in pain. He must have hit it when he fell. He had another vision, he knows it, but his mind is already blank when he tries to remember. Other than the buzz of electricity, he can’t hear any other noises in the room. He must be alone. But where is Satine? A pang of fear clenches in his gut.

He takes a deep breath, letting his mind expand, and forcing his consciousness beyond the room. The ship is average size, possibly a light freighter, with a crew no less than four. He’s in one of the cargo holds, presumably modified to fit the holding cells. There must be another area where Satine had been kept. He feels pinpricks of the other sentients aboard. Most are calm and collected, a steady drone of thought while attending to the various aspects of the ship. He focuses in on the outlier, the pulsing anxiety and panic on the other side of the ship.

Satine’s presence is unmistakable. Obi-Wan focuses on it, trying to get a read on her situation. He can sense her fear, feel her heartbeat, like a phantom organ pulsing double-time his own. He presses onward, trying to make a mental connection, like his Master had before he blacked out. He makes not a word, but a feeling in her mind. A calming, protective wave of presence washes over her thoughts. Her heartbeat slows, her panic subsides slightly, and with that he retracts back into his room.

He opens his eyes and slowly gets to his feet, ignoring his aching body’s protests. The cell is cylindrical, allowing only a few feet from side to side to move around. Through the pale yellow of the electric current making up the walls, a console resides on the opposite side of his holding cell, and he can just barely see the levers and buttons that cover the display. He takes a guess, hoping there aren’t any unpleasant surprises this cell features. The hum of electricity around him gets stronger, and the hairs on his body start to stand on end. Best to assume that’s not right. He turns the dial back down and moves to the next lever. The walls of the cell fizzle out. Only when the glow of his enclosure fades does he see the security cameras in the corner of the room, pointed directly at him. So much for stealth. He leaps out of the cell, making for the door to the room.

The door slides open, and he immediately jams his forearm into the oncoming guard. They’re dressed similarly to the assailant at the bar, still unrecognizable as any certain species. The guard crumples to the floor. He yanks the blaster from the figure’s hands before dragging them back into the holding room, placing them in the cell before continuing down the narrow hallway of the ship.

Obi-Wan shuts his eyes, feeling for the others on the ship. There are four others, other than Satine. The ship’s hallways are winding, and he takes his time checking the corners before rounding them. He encounters a second guard, shooting them twice square in the chest before laying them gently down on the ground. His blaster is set to ‘stun’, and he makes a mental note to check back on them later. At the range that he had fired those shots, it’s going to be a while until they recover.

He’s moving quicker now, sure that eventually the others will realize that he’s escaped. He steps into an intersection of the hallways that leads straight to the cockpit, and comes into plain view with two more crew members. He draws his blaster the same time they do, and showers of sparks rain down from above as they fire upon one another. He ducks back behind the hallway, taking a breath to gather his thoughts. The others cease firing as well, and an eerie silence falls on the ship. Obi-Wan takes a slow breath, trying to imagine the layout of the ship. It seems like a standard republic vessel, albeit an old one, obviously stolen many times over. He has a vague idea of where everything resides. He leans into view of the cockpit, blaster first. He has just enough time to fire a well-aimed shot at the main console, and the whole cockpit goes up in smoke.

He makes a run for it, crossing the intersection and heading towards the port side of the ship. One of the crew members follows after him, firing in his direction. The blaster shots ricochet off the metal and ping around the hall, forcing his attacker to stop in order to avoid getting caught in their own fire. He passes a ladder on his way to the second holding room, making a mental note for a possible escape.

The door slides open and Obi-Wan is greeted with a blaster-whip to his face. His blaster is knocked out of his hand, and he crumples to the floor but rolls, landing back on his feet further inside the hold, across from Satine’s cell. He wipes at his face, smearing the blood from his nose onto the back of his hand. He plants his feet firmly on the ground and Force-shoves the guard, sending them flying into the metal hull of the ship. The moment the attacker hits the wall, he moves to the controls, powering down the cell.

The crew member from the hallway makes it into the room, and Obi-Wan ducks behind the console as they fire. He shoots up underneath the attacker with an inhuman speed, knocking the blaster out of their hand and sending it down the hallway. They shove him towards the back of the room, grappling with him on the ground. It only takes a few moments to incapacitate the guard, and Obi-Wan looks up just in time to see Satine fire his blaster at the last crew member. The blaster falls out of her hand, and she stares at the smoking figure on the ground in front of her, visibly shaking. He reaches to the blaster, holstering it, before pulling her to her feet.

The emergency alarms begin to bathe the ship in bright red, and they hurry down the corridor until he finds the ladder. Just as he hoped, the ship contains a small starfighter attached to the mothership. He sends Satine first, training his weapon at the narrow hallway in case any of their attackers are following them.

When the two are safely inside, Obi-Wan rushes towards the cockpit. Blast! He hates flying. But the controls aren’t too difficult to navigate, and before long they’ve detached from the ship, and he begins the calculations to jump to lightspeed. He doesn’t care _where_ they’re headed, but he knows they have to go _now_. He hopes that his shot at the cockpit had at least damaged some of their consoles so that he can escape without the threat of immediate pursuit. The starfighter has a fraction of firepower compared to the freighter they flee from. The coordinates are set, and they’re yanked from their spot in space as they launch into hyperspace.

Obi-Wan falls to one knee at Satine’s side, where she sits, crumpled on the ground at the entrance to the ship. Her hands are fisted in the fabric of her pants, silent, staring at the ground. He sets his hands on her shoulders.

“Are you alright?” Obi-Wan’s speech is rushed, insistent. His eyes search her frame, trying to find the answers she’s too shocked to give. His hand goes to her cheek, making her look into his eyes. “Satine, did they _hurt_ you?”

She has the beginnings of a black eye, purple bruising running down the left side of her face, across her cheekbone, and along the edge of her jaw. The bruises continue down her neck, encircling it like a mottled collar of blacks and blues.

“I’m fine I-” Satine takes a shuddering breath, looking down at her knees. “I-I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop them. You just collapsed and you weren’t responding and I-”

“Satine,” Obi-Wan interrupts her. “You did everything you could.”

“I…” She trails off, her hand flexing uncertainly. Right. The blaster.

“It was set to stun,” He reassures. “You didn’t kill anyone.” He shifts position, moving his leg out from underneath him so he can sit on the floor. The moment he lets go, her hands grab for the front of his shirt. She says nothing, can’t look him in the eyes, but he understands. He shuffles his body so that she’s in between his legs, and she curls up against his chest. It’s silent, save for Satine’s slightly ragged breathing. His arms go around her, slowly, carefully. His thumb strokes her arm, while his other hand runs through the tangles in her hair.

It occurs to Obi-Wan that this may be the first attempt on Satine’s life. Sure, she had political disputes, even the looming thought of bounty hunters on her heels, but tonight might have been the first time someone had taken her, had touched her with the intent to harm. Because she’s _not_ a soldier, unlike Obi-Wan likes to believe. And it was naive, even childish for him to think that she should be used to this. It was wrong to assume she would handle situations like these just as he has, someone who had been trained with a weapon from the moment it could fit in his hand. It takes a lot more effort to stay neutral, stay strong in this world where everyone is more likely to rip it out from underneath you.

In this light, perhaps the person clutching to him is stronger than he could ever be.

“Obi-Wan,” She starts. He realizes he was the first to break their formality, but is still surprised nonetheless. His name sounds foreign on her tongue, like she’s testing the syllables out for the first time.

“Yes, Satine?”

“Thank you.”

They stay like this for as long as possible. At one point Obi-Wan gets up to check on the ship, and when he returns, he sits at her side, both leaning back against the ship’s walls. Satine lets her head rest against his shoulder. His mind buzzes with questions. Why had Qui-Gon taken his lightsaber? What do these visions mean, now that they seem to take him out of consciousness without his control? And what should they do next? Every movement Satine makes sends a jolt through his system. He’s not used to someone being this _close_. But it’s nice. Jedi so often focus on the Force, on intangible connections. Obi-Wan hasn’t had much exposure to physical ones, even as simple as tracing his fingers up and down along Satine’s arm.

“Do you want to go to Dagobah?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the void of hyperspace that stretches before him through the windshield.

“Dagobah?” Satine questions.

“Master Qui-Gon told me to meet him there.” He explains. “When we were on Nar Shaddaa.” Satine is silent for a moment.

“Why are you asking me?”

Obi-Wan pulls his arm away and stands, running his hand through his hair. He slowly makes his way over to the pilot’s seat, Satine following close behind. He begins making the necessary checks to leave hyperspace.

“It’s just. If you want, you could leave.” He replies. “You could go anywhere, start your life anew. Somewhere you won’t be in danger.”

“My life is to Mandalore.” She replies. All tremors in her voice have gone. Of this, she is certain.

“And if it’s taken from you?” He pauses, turning to face her.

“Then I will fall trying to preserve the life of my people,” She meets his eyes. He turns back to the dashboard.

“How can you put your life into something without ever seeing what’s beyond?” Obi-Wan hears himself ask before thinking. “How can you be so sure?” Satine smiles.

“I’m not. I don’t think anyone is certain of their place.” Another pause. “Tell me, Obi-Wan. What do you fight for?” The question takes him off guard.

“I fight for the Order.” He replies, not sure where this is going.

“No,” She chuckles lightly. “ _Why_ do you fight?” Obi-Wan is quiet, turning back to the controls. Satine continues.

“I was born in the aftermath of a civil war. I lived in fear, never knowing what the next day would bring the people I loved so dear. All as a child. And I was one of the lucky ones. I _survived_. I never want another to go through what I had.” She pauses, absentmindedly rubbing her neck. Obi-Wan keeps his eyes on the console in front of him. “I have the chance to do something for my people. I have the power to make that happen. I can’t let this opportunity pass me by.” The silence of space overtakes them. The ship jolts out of hyperspace. They’re still hours away from Dagobah.

“You’re brave.” He states. Obi-Wan knows his allegiance to the Order has meaning, but hearing such loyalty from Satine, it shakes his foundations.

“And you underestimate your strengths,” Satine breaks him from his thoughts. He turns toward her, and she brings her hand to cup his face. “Your kindness.” He smiles, his eyes tired from the weight of their conversation.

“You should rest,” She comments. He wants to object, wants to tell her that the trauma she’s faced today greatly outweighs his own, but he feels his eyes growing heavy, his mind dizzying. He takes a seat at the back of the ship, while she sits in the pilot’s chair. He drifts off to sleep in a matter of minutes.

 

He dreams of Dagobah. The humid, swampy atmosphere. The incredible abundance of life.

“I cannot teach him. The boy has no patience.”

Yoda’s voice rings out from within his abode. Suddenly Obi-Wan is inside the Master’s home, among the heavy air that hangs about the hut.

 _He will learn patience._  Just as he had, just as Qui-Gon had. In his brief time knowing Luke, and from his time watching over him, all Luke had done was learn. And Luke had been patient, sitting on that planet for most of his life, waiting for something to happen. Something he knew would come to be, but resided just outside of his grasp.

“Hmmm.” Yoda seems unconvinced. “Much anger in him, like his father.” Flashes of Anakin crosses Obi-Wan’s mind. But similar memories as well. Obi-Wan’s rage, cutting Maul down after his Master had fallen. The Order would like to believe that such emotions can’t be born from Jedi, but they’re more common than they would admit.

 _Was I any different when you taught me?_ The image of his younger self is clearer than it should be. Sitting back on the ship with Satine. His first steps in becoming self aware to the rest of the world, and the people that worked within it, outside the Order.

“Hah.” Yoda turns away. “He is not ready.”

“Yoda!” Luke exclaims. “I am ready.  I…” He turns his head to the ceiling. “Ben! I can be a Jedi. Ben, tell him I'm ready.” Luke starts to stand, but quickly hits his head on the ceiling.

“Ready, are you?” Yoda replies. “What know you of ready? For eight hundred years have I trained Jedi. My own counsel will I keep on who is to be trained! A Jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind.” Yoda turns away from Luke. “This one a long time have I watched. All his life has he looked away...to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing.  Hmph. Adventure. Heh! Excitement. Heh! A Jedi craves not these things.” He takes a look at Luke. “You are reckless!” Luke looks down.

 _So was I, if you'll remember._ Yoda makes a face in resignation. Obi-Wan was just the same. Craving more, aspiring to be greater than what he was. But Luke has that fire, that strength that hearkens to Obi-Wan. It’s familiar.

“He is too old. Yes, too old to begin the training.” Yoda sounds in denial at this point. Making excuses.

“But I've learned so much.” Luke sounds crestfallen. Yoda sighs deeply, turning to the ceiling once more.

“Will he finish what he begins?” Obi-Wan doesn’t get time to reply.

“I won't fail you.” Luke’s resolve is solid, eyes locked on Yoda’s. “I'm not afraid.” Something inside Yoda clicks. The vision begins to fade.

“Oh, you will be. You will be.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about writing about Dagobah, I feel like I might be taking quite a few shots in the dark.  
> You might have noticed the chapter count change. This part turned out longer than intended, so I'm splitting it up into two chapters, however now I have to rework what I want to happen next, so it might be a bit before my next chapter. Stay tuned!

“Obi-Wan.” A soft voice coaxes him from his dream. He opens his eyes slowly. Satine is kneeling at his side, hand on his shoulder. Her hair tumbles from her shoulders, appearing pale white in the light of the stars. His right arm twitches, holding himself back from reaching out to touch her. “We’re nearly in orbit.”

Obi-Wan sits up from his slouch on the floor. Dagobah lays before them. He had never been before, but somehow he had known exactly where to navigate the ship to. And closing in on the planet, he can feel why. The planet is teeming with the Force.

“Who’s Luke?” Satine asks, taking a seat by his side, shaking him from his thoughts. Luke? The name rings in his head, but from where, he’s unsure. “You were talking in your sleep. You said ‘Luke’...”

“I’m not sure…” Obi-Wan trails off. He tries to recall where he had heard the name before, but he draws a blank. “I’ve been having visions,” he admits. “Although I can’t seem to remember them when I wake. Master Qui-Gon believes they’re trying to tell me something.”

“How can they tell you anything if you can’t remember them?” Satine asks. He doesn’t know how to answer that. The Force works in strange ways. He turns to Satine. The bruises on her face and neck have darkened, shifting from purples and blues to blacks, with sickly yellow around the edges.

“There has to be a medpac around here,” He makes to stand. Satine catches his wrist before he gets up.

“Um,” Satine hesitates, which throws him more off guard than anything she could have said. “We can find one after we land.” Obi-Wan sits back down, confused, until she leans against him.

 _Oh_. She’s staring at the floor, blush forming on the edges of her cheeks, slight smile on her face. The cabin is cold, they hadn’t bothered to find the temperature controls in their escape, and the chill of space permeates the hull, soaking through their clothes like ice water, save for the spot where they touch. It’s an innocent gesture. Obi-Wan hopes his visions don’t take him from here. He doesn’t want to leave this moment. She snakes her arm around his, tracing the hem of his shirt sleeve with her fingers. For a few more moments, it’s just the two of them. No Jedi. No politics. They stay like this until the ship gives warning of the planet’s gravity pulling them in.

Dagobah’s environment is a stark contrast to the cold of the ship. The air is thick, warm, and wet. It feels like flying into a wall of heat upon entering the atmosphere. Obi-Wan turns the sensors off, relying on his Master’s distinct aura for a location. It’s difficult, with the world they land on so full of the Force, but they touch base a short distance from Qui-Gon’s location. Obi-Wan turns off all power, making them blind to anyone off-planet, and they exit the ship.

Qui-Gon is dressed in his traditional Jedi robes. Satine and Obi-Wan stop just short of the Master’s position on the soft moss. Qui-Gon’s expression is hard set, defiant yet composed. It all clicks into place.

“You knew,” Obi-Wan concludes. “You knew she’d get kidnapped. That’s why we went to Nar Shaddaa.” His Master is silent. Obi-Wan knows Qui-Gon has a tendency to make rash decisions. It’s what has held him from ascending to the Council. He knows what he believes to be right, and is unswayed by distraction, whether that be by regulation or safety of those involved.

“I had a feeling,” Qui-Gon replies. “And once they revealed themselves I recognized the ship. I couldn’t afford falling under their hand as well. As soon as you were gone I was able to track down the culprits.” Qui-Gon offers Obi-Wan his lightsaber, and the weapon flies out of his Master’s hand into his own.

“You once told me my lightsaber was my life,” Obi-Wan continues, clipping the weapon onto his belt, keeping his distance from his Master. He’s trying to stay composed, trying to push down the uncertainty and anger building in his gut, but there’s a bite in the tone of his voice. “I could have used it in our escape. We were in danger.”

“It would have been a lot worse if they knew you were a Jedi.” Qui-Gon responds. “I had faith that you would be fine.”

“Fine? Does she look _fine_ to you?!” Obi-Wan gestures to Satine’s bruised face. Satine steps back, out of Obi-Wan’s periphery, while Qui-Gon takes a few strides, closing the gap between the two Jedi. Obi-Wan keeps steady eye contact, a difficult feat with Qui-Gon’s height.

“She knows what she would have to risk,” His voice is hushed, low enough to be out of Satine’s reach but still strong, still commanding. “Do not let your emotions cloud your judgement.” Obi-Wan’s gaze breaks, the anger deep in his gut dissolving.

“I don’t understand why I was excluded,” Obi-Wan admits, looking at the ground. “I could have been more prepared.”

“They couldn’t suspect they were being monitored.” Qui-Gon explains. “If you had given away our plan, we would have to start over.” He rests his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Do you understand? You acted just as you should, even without preparation. Your instincts proved true.”

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan takes a deep breath in resignation. “I understand.”

“It’s good that you have learned to question,” Qui-Gon continues. “But you must also learn to trust.” Obi-Wan looks up to Qui-Gon. He feels uneasy, but understands that his Master works in ways that he does not yet understand. Qui-Gon steps away, widening the gap so Satine can be in earshot. She’s sitting on a nearby fallen tree, watching the two from afar.

“Do you know why I brought you to Dagobah?” Qui-Gon asks.

“The Force is strong here.” Obi-Wan replies. “I had only a name, but I knew where to find you…”

“There is much to be learned here,” Qui-Gon says. “I am hoping you will be able to discover some of it. Most of it, for now, is outside our grasp.” He steps toward Satine, still addressing his Padawan. “Meditate on this, I will tend to the Duchess.” He regards Satine, and they head towards presumably where Qui-Gon’s ship resides.

Obi-Wan sits on the moss, cross legged, with his hands in his lap. He shuts his eyes, letting the buzz of the forest overtake his senses. The planet feels alive, not only from the creatures living on it, but from the very core itself. He more connected than he ever has, and he feels himself slipping from his consciousness into the haze of the Force. He can feel his body changing, aging and taking new form.

He sees the bright lights of an X-wing, where Luke loads a heavy case into the belly of the ship. _Luke_ , of course. That’s where the name was from. Beside the boy, R2-D2 sits on top of the X-wing, while Yoda stands nearby on a log.

“Luke!” Yoda pleads. “You must complete the training.” Luke ignores him, tending to his ship’s needs.

“I can't keep the vision out of my head.” he counters. “They're my friends. I've got to help them.”

“You must not go!” Luke whips around towards the Jedi Master.

“But Han and Leia will die if I don't!”

“You don't know that.” Obi-Wan interrupts.

Luke stares, shocked, at Obi-Wan. He hasn’t seen him since Hoth, and perhaps at that time thought Obi-Wan was an illusion. Now he stands, very real, beside Yoda.

“Even Yoda cannot see their fate.” Obi-Wan adds.

“But I can help them!” Luke argues. “I feel the Force!”

“But you cannot control it.” Obi-Wan counters. “This is a dangerous time for you, when you will be tempted by the dark side of the Force.”

“Yes, yes.” Yoda adds. “To Obi-Wan you listen. The cave. Remember your failure at the cave!”

“But I've learned so much since then.” Luke says. “Master Yoda, I promise to return and finish what I've begun. You have my word.”

“It is you and your abilities the Emperor wants.” Obi-Wan reminds Luke. “That is why your friends are made to suffer.”

“And that is why I have to go.” Luke is persistent.

“Luke,” Obi-Wan pauses, words on the tip of his tongue. “I don't want to lose you to the Emperor the way I lost Vader.”

“You won't.” And for a moment, he sees his Padawan in Luke’s eyes, defiant yet devoted to the very end.

“Stopped they must be.” Yoda continues. “On this all depends. Only a fully trained Jedi Knight with the Force as his ally will conquer Vader and his Emperor. If you end your training now, if you choose the quick and easy path, as Vader did, you will become an agent of evil.”

“Patience.” Obi-Wan startles himself. He sounds like Qui-Gon once had.

“And sacrifice Han and Leia?” Luke looks heartbroken. His closest allies, his loving friends. To give that up after already losing so much. Obi-Wan knows this all too well.

“If you honor what they fight for,” Yoda says. “Yes.”

Yoda is right, just as Qui-Gon was. They made their choices to stand and fight. They took these paths knowing what might happen. To lose perspective due to emotional connections means to go against the very ideals they fight for.

Obi-Wan wants to help. Wants to stand beside Luke and protect him from the man he once loved and lost, but he knows he cannot.

“If you choose to face Vader, you will do it alone.” Obi-Wan declares. “I cannot interfere.”

“I understand.” Luke moves to his X-wing. “Artoo, fire up the converters.” R2-D2 whistles a happy reply.

“Luke, don't give in to hate,” Obi-Wan reminds him. “That leads to the dark side.” Luke says nothing, but nods as he climbs into his ship.

“Strong is Vader.” Yoda adds. “Mind what you have learned. Save you it can.”

“I will.” Luke replies. “And I'll return. I promise.” R2-D2 closes the cockpit. Obi-Wan and Yoda watch as the roar of the engines and the wind engulf them. Yoda sighs.

“Told you, I did.” He starts. “Reckless is he. Now matters are worse.” Fear clenches in Obi-Wan’s gut.

“That boy is our last hope.” Yoda looks to the stars.

“No. There is another.”

Before he can ask the Master what that means, Obi-Wan falls from his spot. He feels as if the ground has been yanked out from underneath him, and he lands hard on the ground. Wet leaves litter the area, and it’s dark, save for a few spots where light peeks through his new location. He struggles to his hands and knees, looking around. His hand goes to his head. His padawan braid. He feels like he had just been speaking. To Luke, whoever that was, and Master Yoda.

The churning in his gut he had felt since his fight with Qui-Gon has increased, and he gets to his feet slowly. The air has an odd chill to it, not in temperature, but in presence.

He’s in a cave, far from where he was meditating, presumably. He ignites his lightsaber and cautiously begins walking. It’s quiet, save for the water trickling down the walls of the cave. There are no signs of any animals, and the strong connection he had felt earlier was gone. It feels empty without that feeling, like he’s missing a piece of himself. He finds he can’t feel much of the Force at all. He feels utterly alone in the dark.

A flurry of motion, and a figure pushes past him. It’s Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan takes off after his Master. The cave is winding and long, and he can just barely keep up.

“Master!” He calls out. He can just barely see Qui-Gon with the light from the ceiling in the cave. He rounds a corner where Qui-Gon stands, the light shining down from above like a spotlight.

Qui-Gon falls to his knees, then forward. Obi-Wan approaches quickly, but he can already see the wound in his Master’s back.

“No!” Obi-Wan falls to his Master’s side, turning him so he lays on his back. Qui-Gon is unresponsive, eyes fixed on the ceiling, unmoving and glassy. Obi-Wan’s hands shake where he cradles his Master’s face in his arms.

“No, no no no,” he whispers, hearing his voice waver. He hears a sound, and looks towards the darkness, anger broiling in his stomach. Obi-Wan jumps to his feet, swinging his lightsaber wildly into the cave. He’s not thinking, not considering his surroundings, his feelings. He wants whoever felled his Master to _pay_ , hopes the pain he inflicts will hold for years to come. In that moment, he wishes not death to his opponent, but suffering.

His lightsaber slashes through his opponent, obscured in the darkness. He hears the double-thump of a body cut in half hitting the ground, rolling into view of another shaft of light.

Obi-Wan’s breath catches. Satine lays, unmoving, face frozen in a permanent expression of pure pain. She’s still alive, wet, gasping noises coming from her open mouth. Tears roll down her cheeks. She’s in agony.

Her eyes lock onto his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all wanna feel things go ahead and watch Qui-Gon's death scene. Baby Obi-Wan watching his Master die is too much :(


	6. Chapter 6

Obi-Wan stays like this for what feels like hours. Frozen, sitting at arm’s length of Satine’s broken body, head in his hands. At some point he realizes that this has to have been an illusion, that Satine’s unbruised face and familiar iridescent dress proves that she isn’t real, but he can’t make himself move from the spot. Eventually Satine stops breathing, and he is left in the silence of the cave, nothing but his own uneasy breathing for company.

Because he’s never dealt with death like this. Sure, Jedi have fallen in their absence from the temple, he had even seen a few take their last breaths in front of him, but never his friends. Never his _Master_.

He glances back to the spot where Qui-Gon lay, takes one last shaking breath, and stands. The entrance to the cave is easy to find, closer than he imagined it, and he steps into the forest, squinting from the daylight. It seems darker out than before, they must have landed closer to sundown than he originally thought. Slowly he feels the fear in this chest subsiding, his heartbeat returning to normal. Every step he takes away from the cave brings more relief. The energy of the Force-saturated ground makes his way back into his system.

He tries to analyze what had just happened, trying to find any kind of conclusion from what he had experienced. For reasons he can’t explain, he hears a voice echoing in his mind.

_Remember your failure at the cave._

“Master Yoda?” Obi-Wan asks the forest, stopping mid-stride. He hears the commotion of creatures milling about the area, but nothing from the Jedi Master.

Obi-Wan walks in silence for the next few minutes, attempting to push the events at the cave to the back of his mind. He seems to know exactly which way to head, a common phenomenon with this planet, it seems. He finds the area in which he had begun his meditations with ease. By the time he finds Qui-Gon’s ship, it’s nearly night. His Master’s freighter is slightly larger than the one Obi-Wan and Satine had taken, but could easily be piloted by one person. Familiar marks of the Republic are painted on it’s sides, and it appears worn with gentle use.

The ramp lowers when he draws near, and upon entering he finds his Master and the Duchess in the lounge. Satine is sitting on one of the couches, currently peeling a used bacta pad off of her neck. She’s changed from her outfit from Draboon into another drab pair of garments. Still nothing like the outfits she wears on Mandalore. Master Qui-Gon holds his hand out to her, waiting to dispose of the item.

Obi-Wan lets out a long breath at the sight of the two. Alive. Safe. So starkly different from their cold unmoving bodies in the cave. Qui-Gon senses him before Satine does, and is walking towards his Padawan, concern etched across his face.

“Are you alright?” He asks. For a moment Obi-Wan tries to hide his fear. Qui-Gon approaches him before he can respond. “Come with me.” Obi-Wan takes one last look at Satine, who’s watching him with wary eyes, and follows his Master to the captain’s cabin. When the door shuts, Qui-Gon turns to Obi-Wan. He rests a hand on his padawan’s shoulder, leaning down slightly so he can look him in the eye.

“You appear upset.” He comments.

“I’m sorry, Master,” Obi-Wan begins. “I know Jedi are not to show emotion. I don’t know what to do.”

“I did not say so to reprimand you, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon replies. “Tell me what happened.” Obi-Wan hesitates, unsure where to begin.

“I had another vision, while I was meditating. But afterwards, there was something else…” Obi-Wan pauses. “I saw you. You were hurt. There was nothing I could do...I lost you.” He doesn’t mention Satine’s part of the vision, and hopes his Master isn’t perceptive enough to see through his omission. Qui-Gon is silent for a moment before responding.

“And seeing me fall made you upset?” Obi-Wan isn’t sure if he should respond, so he stays quiet. Qui-Gon exhales, a small smile on his lips. “Jedi are not warriors, but I would be lying if I told you we do not often see battle. It is not a question of _if_ we will die, but _when_. And it is quite likely that I will fall in battle. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Master.”

“This is inevitable. It is something that you will have to bear when the time comes.” He continues. “But do not focus on that time, so far from here. Let your mind stay in the present. If you look to the future, and fear what’s to come, you let the dark side in.”

“I understand, Master.”

“There are techniques you can use to aid in this process. I believe they are taught to you in the academy, if I’m correct?”

“Yes, Master.” Empty meditation. The art of disconnecting oneself from their physical body. It is encouraged at a young age to be able to reach this state with ease, as it disperses negative thought and rationalizes emotional connections.

“However, I want you to know that I will be here if need be. The time for you to walk alone has not yet come.” He smiles. Obi-Wan does the same.

They make their way through the ship back to the lounge, where Satine has replaced the bacta pad on her neck, and is in the process of fixing another around the edge of her face. Before Obi-Wan can take her side, Qui-Gon is in his place, helping secure the pad around her jaw and cheekbone. Satine’s hands fall to her sides, letting the Jedi Master press the medicine lightly into her skin. Obi-Wan clears his throat lightly before speaking.

“Sa-”

“-Did you enjoy your walk in the woods, Kenobi?” Satine interrupts him. The formality in her tone alarms him, almost like a warning. She watches him from the corner of her eye that isn’t being surrounded by bandages. It takes him a beat to recover.  
  
“The planet has its share of surprises.” Obi-Wan replies. “Although none I hope as exciting as our adventures on Nar Shaddaa.” Satine smiles, but it feels colder. Not inherently displeased, but more distant than their time on the ship. Obi-Wan’s not sure if it’s from the extra company or time to reflect, but he doesn’t let his mind rest on it.

“I think I’m all set for excitement on this trip.” She says as Qui-Gon finishes bandaging her face. “I’m retiring early tonight.” She stands, nodding slightly to Qui-Gon, who returns it with his usual cool demeanor. Her smile is tired, the bags under her eyes indicating she hadn’t slept in the time since they escaped her kidnappers. She passes by Obi-Wan as she makes her way to the barracks.

“Kenobi,” She regards him.

“Duchess,” He returns, the word souring in his mouth.

No visions come to Obi-Wan that night. Instead, fleeting images of Satine drift just outside of his grasp. He forces himself awake several times throughout the night, waiting for his heartbeat to lower before attempting to fall back asleep.

He leaves the ship at dawn, sitting just outside of the entrance ramp, deep in meditation. There, he feels the same connection he had with the planet the day before. It clears his mind, rights his senses. He’s able to disconnect from the events in his past, focus in where he is at present. He feels it might be hard to leave this place. On this planet he feels whole, somehow. He spends the most of his morning in that spot.

Upon returning to the ship, Obi-Wan finds a pair of Jedi robes, almost identical to his old ones, in the bunker where he had slept. It’s a small comfort, one that allows him to momentarily put the terrifying events of yesterday in the past.

Their breakfast is rehydrated protein, resembling some kind of tuber with a gravy, which is a significant step up from ration bars. Obi-Wan and Satine eat with vigor. They must have been on some sort of life support while captured. There’s no way they hadn’t eaten since that day on Draboon. It feels like ages ago, back on that cold planet. Nothing like the swampy terrain of Dagobah.  
  
Although Qui-Gon’s ship has power, it’s far from operational, due to a slightly rougher landing than he had expected. The Jedi Master has had astromech droids working on the hull breach and hyperdrive malfunction for a day or so before their arrival. He theorizes that they can salvage some equipment from the ship that Obi-Wan and Satine had taken to speed up the process. The stolen ship is too recognizable to be used anyways, and can no doubt be tracked by its former owners.

Obi-Wan and Satine make their way to the stolen ship, while Qui-Gon continues to work on the hyperdrive. It’s not too long of a walk, and they let the sounds of the forest engulf their silence as they make their way across the rugged landscape.

Obi-Wan gets to work, tearing chunks of metal off of the ship and loading it onto the spare crates from Qui-Gon’s ship. They’re fitted with repulsorlifts, and they bob gently in the air a few inches above the ground when activated. He came with tools to undo the fastenings on the metal, but he mostly uses the Force and his lightsaber to unhinge the metal from its base. Although he embraces the comfort of his familiar uniform, it’s quite warm for the environment, and he finds himself pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow more often than he’d like.

“I don’t understand why I can’t help,” Satine mentions for the third time that day. She’s resting on a fallen log a few feet from the crate. Her afternoon has consisted of following Obi-Wan back and forth from the two ships, not allowed to do anything other than watch. “I didn’t grow up in a palace. I’m not so far removed from manual labor.”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan is unsympathetic, not turning away from his work. “I didn’t save you from kidnappers to have you injure yourself fixing the ship. You’ll just have to deal with your boredom for now.” Not that she came out of that completely unscathed. She doesn’t mention it. He focuses on pulling the freshly-cut sheet of metal from the ship.

“It’s not so bad,” Satine continues, her voice playful. He can feel her gaze while his back is turned. “It’s a nice view.”

The piece he had been working on rips off of the ship with an unexpected jerk, sending Obi-Wan backwards. He staggers a few feet, grasping the sheet in his hands and giving Satine an incredulous look. Satine smiles coolly, not entirely suppressing the blush on her cheeks.

“I think we have enough,” He grumbles, trying to calm the warmth in his face. He puts the last piece into the crate and activates the repulsorlifts. The crate hovers a few feet in front of them, guided by the Force, as they make their way back to Qui-Gon’s ship. They walk for a while before Obi-Wan breaks the silence.

“You look better,” He comments. Her bruises have faded, only a slightly yellowed tinge to her normal complexion, and although the ship lacked a shower, she at least had time to run a comb through her hair.

“Thank modern medicine,” She comments. The conversation falls short, but after a few moments Satine speaks again. “Tell me, Obi-Wan,” His stomach flips at the mention of his name. “Are all Jedi such risk takers?”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t imagine Master Qui-Gon’s plan is conventional among the Jedi Order. Although perhaps I am mistaken.”

Silence overtakes the two. He had spent so much time questioning Qui-Gon and his motives, he hadn’t bothered to check in with Satine. She was basically sacrificed by Qui-Gon to find her attackers, and Obi-Wan had left her alone with him multiple times. Not that Obi-Wan thought he would do her harm, but she must have at least felt uneasy in his presence.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan begins. “I never wanted you to go through something like that.” She doesn’t respond. “How do you feel about Master Qui-Gon? Do you trust him?” Satine is quiet for a moment, brow slightly furrowed in thought.

“He is a kind man,” Satine replies. “He had told me, when we were on our way to Nar Shaddaa, that something like this might happen. And last night...he was so sorry. It hurt him to see me like this.” She pauses. “I don’t think he wants you to see it.”

“See what?” Obi-Wan stops to face her.

“His guilt.” Satine meets his eyes. “His doubt.” The words seem foreign when applied to Qui-Gon. To Obi-Wan, he was absolute. But the idea of him hiding his imperfections to his padawan, it made sense.

“It’s okay,” She brings him out of his thoughts, bumping her arm against his before continuing down the path. “I’m fine. You don’t need to keep worrying about me.” Obi-Wan follows her, catching up to her in a few quick strides.

“You seem to forget, It’s my _job_ to worry about you.” He adds. She smiles.

They approach Qui-Gon as he’s holding a piece of the ship open with the Force, allowing an astromech droid to attend to the framework underneath. When it’s done, he lowers the metal into place and turns to the two.

“This should be the last of it.” Obi-Wan says, gesturing to the crate.

“We should be able to leave by tonight.” Qui-Gon replies. “I’ve been informed the situation on Mandalore is subsiding.” He turns to Satine. “You should be able to return home shortly.”

This comes as a surprise. Qui-Gon had been quiet about any outside contact their entire time away. Obi-Wan isn’t sure if it’s for safety concerns, or just not getting their hopes up.

“Will I be able to communicate with them before we return?” Satine asks. It’s fascinating, how quickly she can switch from casual conversation to strictly business discussion. Obi-Wan is still getting over his initial surprise, while Satine has already moved on, preparing for her return.

“We’ll make a stop where you will be received by informants from Mandalore. We will accompany you there.” Qui-Gon replies. “Your council will be expecting a transmission at the meeting point.”

“Thank you.”

The rest of the day passes slowly. Obi-Wan spends his time meditating, trying to make any more sense of his experience in the cave, as well as his visions, but nothing remains other than the mysterious name and a feeling of dread in the far back of his mind. They eat a final meal in the ship, deciding to depart in a few hours so they can make it to their destination by daylight.

Qui-Gon checks on the hyperdrive one last time before heading to the cockpit to begin the voyage. The Padawan and the Duchess are left in the lounge. It seems unbelievable, that their journey is almost over. The two of them sit, side by side, staring straight ahead at the emptiness of the ship. The planet hasn’t cooled with the sun’s setting, and the warmth in the room cloaks its passengers in a gentle haze of comfort. It’s quiet, save for the deep hum of the ship’s engines beginning to go online.

“After all this,” Obi-Wan breaks the silence. “What do you wish to do? For Mandalore, I mean.” He clarifies.

“We are a proud race.” Satine responds. “That hasn’t changed. It’s the one thing we all have in common. The fact that I face violence from my own people further proves my point: if we do not change our ways, we will consume ourselves.” A pause. She shuffles so that she’s facing him, voice low and hushed. “There is a ferocity among the Mandalorians. We do not know how to sit idle. Our world is scarred from our past, and I think we haven’t had time to heal.”

Obi-Wan says nothing. Satine, to some extent, knows that her people will not conform to pacifism, at least not easily or quickly. It’s not some lie she believes her people can live under. It’s an end goal. A future state for the people of Mandalore. And setting an idea such as this in motion requires an incredible amount of willpower. No doubt Satine possesses such a strength.

“What about you, Obi-Wan? What are your plans for the future?” She asks. He hates this. It feels too much like goodbye.

“I will continue to serve my Master until I’m granted with Knighthood. From there I can begin my own path in the Jedi Order. Doing what’s right for the galaxy.” Satine looks away.

“There was a war, a long time ago.” She begins. “Before you, or I, or life as we know it. Where Jedi did what they thought was right, fought against a power they deemed wrong.”

“I know the legend.” Obi-Wan comments. The Mandalorian wars. The exact details of the conflict have been lost to the ages, but it’s whispered in the halls on Coruscant. The Jedi Order, militarizing against an enemy they believed was formidable enough to sacrifice their beliefs for. The amount of fallen Jedi during that time rivaled any other moment in history. The Order left in pieces. Mandalore laying in ruin. The losses were unspeakable.

“Would you have done the same? Followed who you believe blindly, and fallen?” She stops, seems to hold back her speech, takes a breath. “Your Order is just, but are you prepared to do what you have to? In order to do what’s right?”

Obi-Wan wants to defend the Order. Wants to tell Satine that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but can’t find the words. Because Satine’s warnings are based on personal experience. She doesn’t say so to criticize his Order, but to protect him.

“I can promise you this, Satine. I will not fall.”

Satine meets his eyes, giving him a soft smile.

“I believe you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT this chapter was way too long for the amount of /nothing/ that happens in it. For that, I’m sorry.  
> Looking to be about two more chapters left :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up! There was a chapter uploaded a few days ago! If you haven't read that, start there!
> 
> Might sway a tad from canon compliant, I'll explain my reasoning in the end notes :)

The trip takes the majority of the night. They enter orbit in late afternoon, the sun already late in the sky. Obi-Wan makes his way to the cockpit once they enter the atmosphere.

“Where are we?” He asks.

“Bespin,” Qui-Gon replies. Hovering thousands of feet in the air, a small city, circular in shape, and buzzing with activity comes into view.

“Cloud City,” Satine comments, entering the room and stopping behind the pilot’s seat.

“Our journey is complete.” Qui-Gon says. “You’re safe now, Duchess.”

Qui-Gon communicates with the ground staff, and he takes their ship into one of the ports. The city is pristine. White, shining walls seem to blend seamlessly into the wide glass windows, revealing the cloudscape that surrounds them. The sun is sinking in the sky, throwing the entire area into deep reds and oranges. They are greeted with armored Mandalorian guards, whom direct them to their quarters.

Qui-Gon gives Obi-Wan a few moments of rest, allowing him to shower and change into fresh clothes before resuming his duties watching over Satine. The shower water is warm and inviting, despite their time spent on a muggy, humid planet. He doesn’t want to think about how long it’s been since he’s been properly cleaned. The quarters he’s been given are impressive, even compared to the temple at Coruscant. Huge glass windows open to the expanse of clouds below the establishment, and the room contains a bed, a desk, and even a small kitchen.

He doesn’t take too long exploring the living space. After a few short minutes, he makes his way towards Satine’s room nextdoor. Qui-Gon is standing outside by the time Obi-Wan reaches it, and he gives his padawan a quick nod before heading off to his own room to change. Obi-Wan approaches the doorpad, clearing his throat before speaking.

“Come in,” Satine’s voice calls through the speaker before he can manage to speak. The door slides open, and he steps inside.

Her room is extravagant. It’s at least twice the size of his, and everything is deep red and gold. Large velvet drapes hang over the edges of the windows. A small lounge is situated in the center of the room, sunken down into the floor, with couches making a circle in the area*. Her bed could fit three easily, and a lace canopy drapes over the top. In a corner, nearby an elaborate dresser is an intricately detailed folding screen, where Satine stands, out of view from Obi-Wan.

He finds the need to look away, even if the divider completely blocks his view of her. He takes a seat in one of the couches in the middle, looking out the window.

“They certainly spared no expense on you.” He comments.

“It’s purely political,” She responds from the other side of the screen. “Wouldn’t want bad news to get back to Mandalore about my stay.” She speaks honestly, but there’s a playful tone in her voice. She’s aware how much of a charade this whole thing is.

“Can’t be worse than what we’ve gone through,” He smirks. “I bet you’re glad to be back among civilization. No more swamps, no more dirty alleyways.”

“I think I can handle getting a little dirty.” She replies as she steps out in front of the divider. “The company helped.”

She’s dressed in dark blues and emeralds, contrasting shockingly against the backdrop of her room. Tall boots, tight leggings, and a top which parts at the thick belt at her waist, the fabric ending down at her knees. The top has a high collar and a deep ‘V’ in the neck, sleeveless, with a skin-tight, long-sleeved shirt peeking through. Large green gems adorn her ears. Her hair flows freely, curling around her shoulders, ending at the end of the neckline in her top. If she notices his staring, she doesn’t comment on it.

“Help me with the back?” She asks, turning away from him. He approaches her quicker than he needs to, tripping up the stairs on his way over to the divider. She’s still wearing the long-sleeved shirt under the open top, but his heartbeat picks up when his knuckles graze the back of her neck, parting her hair so it doesn’t get stuck in the zipper.

“I don’t understand how you find comfort in this kind of clothing.” Obi-Wan comments, moving her hair back into place once he’s finished zipping her up. She smirks, turning to face him.

“I bet you’d clean up well,” Satine smiles, reaching out to straighten his robes. Obi-Wan is hyper aware of their proximity. “Glad to see you clean shaven again.” Glad? She averts her eyes, turning towards her dresser. She pulls her hair into a tight ponytail, securing it with a jeweled headpiece. That’s when he sees it. A blaster on the dresser. Thin, delicate, meant for those not often engaged in battle. She pauses, hand hovering over the weapon. He can just barely see her hand twitching.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.” He offers, thinking back to before. Satine, shaking, holding a weapon against her will, fighting back tears, scared for her life. Satine turns toward him, concerned. “You’ll have me. I won’t let harm come your way.” His words are strong, certain. Her expression softens.

“We better get going,” Satine comments quietly, heading towards the door.

Obi-Wan follows, but stops at the sudden blurring of his vision. He manages to call out Satine’s name. She turns towards him, her expression shocked, fearful. His head grows light, he loses control of his limbs, and he falls to the floor. He’s out cold before he hits the ground.

 

Plunged back to the swamps of Dagobah, he oversees Luke wandering to his X-wing. R2-D2 whistles a greeting. It goes ignored. Luke kneels, shaking his head dejectedly.

“I can't do it, Artoo. I can't go on alone.” He whispers. The loss of not only one, but two Jedi Masters, in such a short time, must weigh on him terribly. Without them, he is left alone, the last Jedi in the galaxy.

“Yoda will always be with you.” Obi-Wan calls from the woods.

“Obi-Wan…” Luke looks shocked at Obi-Wan’s sudden appearance, but his surprise turns to frustration. “Why didn't you tell me?” Obi-Wan makes his way closer to Luke. “You told me Vader betrayed and murdered my father.” Obi-Wan grimaces at the statement. He had thought it was for the best that he didn’t tell Luke the truth. How easily things like this seem to surface. It‘s about time he made up for past mistakes.

“You father was seduced by the dark side of the Force.” Obi-Wan begins. “He ceased to be Anakin Skywalker and became Darth Vader. When that happened, the good man who was your father was destroyed. So what I have told you was true...from a certain point of view.”

Luke turns away, letting a frustrated noise out.

“A certain point of view!” He echoes.

“Luke, you're going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.” He didn’t miss the fact that Luke had called him ‘Obi-Wan’ this time instead of ‘Ben.’ The time for Ben Kenobi had passed, and the Jedi Master Obi-Wan was needed once more. Certain parts of people come and go. Everyone goes through their own kind of reincarnation.

Luke is silent. Obi-Wan watches him, deep in thought.

“Anakin was a good friend.” Obi-Wan mentions, quieter than before. Luke looks up, clinging to any mention of his father. It hurts, to think of his former padawan. It seems no matter how much time passes, there are some scars that don’t heal.

“When I first knew him, your father was already a great pilot.” Obi-Wan continues. “But I was amazed how strongly the Force was with him. I took it upon myself to train him as a Jedi. I thought that I could instruct him just as well as Yoda.” A pause. “I was wrong.”

“There's still good in him.” Luke counters. Obi-Wan recalls his last moment looking into Anakin’s eyes. So full of anger. Screaming his hate towards his former Master, his former friend.

“He is more machine now than man.” Obi-Wan replies. “Twisted, and evil.” Luke takes a moment to respond.

“I can't do it, Ben.” There it is. Old ‘Ben’ Kenobi. Brought back to life by Luke’s unconscious need for a mentor. A father.

“You cannot escape your destiny.” Obi-Wan urges. “You must face Darth Vader again.”

“I can't kill my own father.” Obi-Wan is all too familiar with this. When it was his time, he couldn’t bear to kill his best friend. He hates that he has to ask of Luke to do what he could not himself.

“Then the Emperor has already won. You were our only hope.” He admits. Luke pauses.

“Yoda spoke of another.”

“The other he spoke of is your twin sister.” Obi-Wan watches the confusion in Luke’s eyes.

“But I have no sister…” Obi-Wan wishes it had been different. He imagines a time where Luke and Leia could have grown up together, surrounded by loving parents.

“To protect you both from the Emperor, you were hidden from your father when you were born.” He explains. “The Emperor knew, as I did, if Anakin were to have any offspring, they would be a threat to him. That is the reason why your sister remains safely anonymous.” Understanding dawns on the boy.

“Leia….Leia's my sister.” Luke looks so hopeful. So happy at the fact that he is not completely alone, completely abandoned. Obi-Wan smiles.

“Your insight serves you well.” He replies. “Bury your feelings deep down, Luke. They do you credit. But they could be made to serve the Emperor.” Luke scrunches his face in confusion. Obi-Wan can feel himself pulled away from reality, this reality, as he’s thrown back in time.

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, opening his eyes slowly. He’s in Satine’s room, laying on his back, head in her lap. She has a hand to his face, and is looking at him with concern.

“Thank the Force,” She whispers. “I thought you were gone again.” Obi-Wan blinks a few times, trying to get his wits about him. He sits up, and she scoots back so that they’re facing each other, sitting on the floor.

“How long was I out?” He asks.

“Only a minute or so.” She replies. “I was just about to contact Master Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan…” She pauses. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I had another vision…” He replies, eyes focused on the ground. “About Luke.” The name is still standalone. He can’t recall a face, can’t put him to a location. Something about burying his feelings. His mind draws a blank. He looks to Satine.

“We’ll be late.” He mentions, getting to his feet.

“For stars’ sake Obi!” Satine raises her voice. He stops, halfway to the door, surprised at the volume in her voice as well as her words. She gets to her feet, making her way over to him in a few quick strides, stopping once she draws near. She sighs, bringing a hand slowly up to cup his cheek.

“Think about yourself for once.” She smiles. “Are you okay?” He covers her hand with his own, holding it for a moment before letting them drop to their sides.

“I’ll be fine.” Obi-Wan replies. “Pay no mind.” After a pointed look, Satine turns to leave.

“Just because it’s not my _job_ to worry about you doesn’t mean I won’t.” She chides. She’s smiling. He makes a mocking sigh, following her out the door.

They make their way down the winding paths of the city until she finds her conference room. Two guards dressed in Mandalorian armor stand outside, saluting Satine when she approaches. She enters the room, the guards following her, while Obi-Wan waits outside. Qui-Gon takes his side after a moment, and they stand in silence, waiting for Satine’s transmission to end.

Obi-Wan can’t tell what she’s saying, but he can barely hear her over the hum of the lights in the hallway. Satine’s voice is crisp, cold, and commanding. She’s completely focused on the task at hand. It’s fascinating how different she can seem when she’s tending to her duties. Her voice is nothing like the warm velvet tones she had used to address Obi-Wan back in her room. He forces himself to focus. Qui-Gon watches him from the corner of his eye.

“I’m assuming this is your first time in Cloud City,” His Master begins, training his eyes on the city officials walking along the wide hallway.

“Yes Master,” Obi-Wan replies. “I know a little about the area, but I have not traveled far from Coruscant until I became your padawan.”

“It’s a fantastic place,” Qui-Gon continues. “An incredible abundance of things to do. Some of which you may not have experienced before.” A pang of fear and understanding clenches in Obi-Wan’s gut. He glances at Qui-Gon, but he hasn’t shifted from his position watching the passerby.

“Yes Master. It can be quite…overwhelming.”

“That’s understandable. But be warned.” He pauses to look at Obi-Wan. “It can be very dangerous.” A pause. “I’m not saying don’t see what there is to see.” Obi-Wan turns to him, surprised. “But...tread carefully.” Qui-Gon turns back to watch the hallway.

“...I understand, Master.” They stand in silence for the rest of Satine’s communication. Qui-Gon leaves to meet with the Jedi Council before she returns. They plan to leave the next morning, heading back to Coruscant while Satine leaves for Mandalore. They are on duty until they part ways.

Satine exits the room, seemingly unfazed by the contents of her discussion. She waves the guards away, and the two return to her room. When they arrive, a dinner has been placed on the table in the center of the room in the lounge. An elaborate spread of Mandalorian cuisine had been prepared for the Duchess. Gi dumpling soup, Tingilar and roast Sahtual covers the table, with a side of Uj’alayi for dessert**. It’s unlike anything they’d had during their time away. They’re quiet while eating, focusing on what’s in front of them. They wash it all down with a glass of Mandalorian rice wine.

“We should go somewhere.” Satine says, after they’ve finished eating.

“What are you talking about?” Obi-Wan replies. “We’ve just spend _months_ going all sorts of ‘somewhere’s.”

“Cloud City has so much to offer! It’s a gorgeous place. I doubt you’ll find your way back here anytime soon.” Satine seems invigorated by her communication to Mandalore. Obi-Wan is skeptical.

“My Master gave me clear instructions. We cannot leave this sector.” Satine’s eyes glaze over at Obi-Wan’s resolutions. She thinks for a moment, smile on her lips.

“There’s a pool nearby.” She suggests. Obi-Wan is dumbstruck.

“You want us to go _swimming_?” Satine doesn’t respond, clearly entertained judging by the smile on her face. He glares. “I don’t have a suit.” His voice is monotone. He’s not playing into Satine’s schemes. He feels ridiculous even having to have this debate.

“The location is stunning,” She continues. “You can sit and meditate and whatever else you Jedi do for fun.” He’s unresponsive. “It’s our last night! Why don’t we enjoy it?” She seems completely changed from their time fleeing from planet to planet. She must be truly happy to be back among civilization. Obi-Wan sighs in resignation.

“You’ll be with me. It’s not like you’re ignoring your orders.” Satine adds. “And we won’t be leaving the sector.”

“You’re going to get me in so much trouble.” He replies. Satine stands, heading over to the divider to change. Obi-Wan fiddles with the edges of his robe while he waits. She returns fully clothed, a simple turquoise top and black leggings over her suit.

“Why do you have an entire wardrobe on Bespin?” He asks, standing to walk towards the door with her.

“Sometimes we make trips to the outer rim to discuss with officials from the area.” Satine explains. She enters a separate hallway through a doorpad she unlocks. “We use Cloud City as our neutral location.”

“Wouldn’t dare want to insult potential allies with clothing that reeks of ship air.” Obi-Wan chides. Satine smiles in response. They make their way down the hallway, Satine leading. After a short walk she approaches the door to the pool. She confirms her identification with the doorpad, and they enter.

It’s like stepping into another world. The entire room looks to be made of glass. Through the walls they can see the clouds below, bathed in deep purples and magentas from the setting sun. The walkway is softly outlined with small lights, and the edges of the room are adorned with plants that seem to float in their place among the clouds. There are several pools of different sizes, and the water is as clear as the walls surrounding it.

“It’s just an illusion,” Satine mentions. “They’re just all holoscreens, projecting images from the outside.

“It’s fascinating,” Obi-Wan comments, walking among the lighted path as he makes his way about the room. He doesn’t realize how bad of an idea this whole thing is until he turns back to Satine.

She’s changed out of her outerwear, now clad in only a swimsuit. It’s a modest one, thick-strapped with a skirted portion that ends on her upper thighs. It’s the same iridescent green as her dress had been, with a bright violet belt high on her waist. She takes her hair out of the jeweled clip, setting it on the glass table along with the rest of her clothing.

“You’re staring,” She smiles. Obi-Wan immediately averts his eyes, focusing on the sun setting behind the clouds. His face is warm, his hands sweaty. He hears her enter the largest pool, and he turns back towards her.

“Relax,” she says. “Sit down. I’m not going anywhere.” Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to say. He’s completely floored by Satine’s appearance. He always thought her beautiful, but here, in the light of the sunset, just the two of them, it’s overwhelming. He scrambles for something to talk about.

“Y-You know, pools are a rarity on Bespin,” He starts. She says nothing, floating on her back, eyes trained on him. “It’s actually quite difficult to approve recreational uses of water in cities above gaseous planets.”

“Hmm,” She hums, turning to stand. The water reaches just about her elbows. Obi-Wan awkwardly sheds his outer cloak.

“It’s quite warm in here.” He comments, turning away from her to find a place to set it.

“Seems alright to me,” Satine replies. His heart is ramming in his chest. He’s at a loss of what to do. He turns back to Satine, who’s watching him with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Alright that’s enough!” Obi-Wan doesn’t mean to shout, but he’s reached his limit. He feels humiliated, being pulled around just for entertainment. “I don’t know why you’re so intent on making this worse for me. You can make fun of me in some other fashion but don’t…” He pauses, looking away. “Don’t toy with my emotions.”

Satine looks crestfallen, her smile fading as soon as he had shouted.

“Oh Obi…” She starts. “I never meant to make you feel that way. I just thought…”

“-Thought what?” Obi-Wan interjects, stepping closer so that he’s at the edge of the pool, towering over her.

“I just thought I’d finally get you to _do_ something.” Satine finishes. “That’s all I want.”

“What?” Obi-Wan isn’t sure if he heard correctly.

Satine sighs, shaking her head and smiling. She jumps forward, wrapping her arms around his knees and pulling him into the pool. Obi-Wan saw her move, knew what might happen, but for some reason couldn’t bring himself to stop her. He tumbles into the water, finding footing as soon as possible. He wipes the water out of his eyes, trying to get a handle of the situation he could’ve easily avoided. She’s a few feet from him now. Her hair is wet, sticking to her skin, making her seem smaller than before.

“Why would I do something to hurt you?” Satine asks.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says. “I shouldn’t have shouted.” She moves towards him slowly.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Satine smiles. She reaches her hand out, cupping his face gently. “Think about yourself for once. What do _you_ want?”

“I…” He can’t think straight. His clothes are soaked and he’s dizzy and she’s just _so_ beautiful and so _close_. But he doesn’t need to. Satine closes the distance between the two slowly, carefully. Obi-Wan lets his eyes flutter shut. His hand goes up to rest on her waist.

She kisses him, and it’s warm and soft and everything Obi-Wan’s been wanting.

Qui-Gon was wrong. It’s not safe. The lights go out in the room as an explosion rocks the entire structure of Cloud City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * https://www.google.com/url?q=http://cdn.homedit.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Sunken-Cream-Living-Room.jpg&sa=D&ust=1476659372698000&usg=AFQjCNE1cTVVjmcZuOfEDVstQdx3-NLOUg  
> ** Mandalorian foods:  
> Gi dumpling soup: A soup featuring meat dumplings made from fish (Gi).  
> Tingilar: An intensely spicy Mandalorian casserole made with meat, vegetables, and potent spice.  
> Roast Sahtual: A species of animal native to the veshok-tree forests of Mandalore.  
> Uj'alayi: A flat, dense, and sticky cake made of crushed nuts, dried fruits, and a sweet spiced syrup.
> 
> This chapter is brought to you by the Wookieepedia's article on Bespin, which has one line referencing pools that I just had to take advantage of.
> 
> There’s only so much I can do about the "Lucasian" dialogue guys. I had thought about re-writing the dialogue instead of copy-pasting from the script, but it’s too late for that now haha
> 
> I know it's supposed to be a question if Satine likes Obi-Wan in the events of the Clone Wars series, but perhaps Obi-Wan thought it was just a childish crush, something that she didn't still hold to. In my eyes, they look back to that time before the Clone Wars and aren't sure how each other felt. They've spent years convincing themselves their affections were either one sided or the other had gotten over them. So that's my reasoning for why something like a kiss could've happened and that /not/ being the thing they fixate on when talking about it.
> 
> Last chapter's next. Thanks for hanging with me all this time :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super short but I had to break the last one up into two because it was getting too long ;;  
> Also I’ve spelt Mandalore wrong EVERY TIME in this fic so I went back and fixed that.

The city shudders to a halt, the water in the pool sloshing heavily around the two. They stand up to their waists in the water, listening to the silence around them. Obi-Wan still has his hand on Satine’s waist, and he holds with in a steady grip. She leans against him, her breath cool against his neck.

“What _was_ that?” Satine asks, voice hushed.

“I don’t know.” Obi-Wan replies. He unclips his lightsaber from his belt and, holding it far from Satine’s direction, ignites it. The area fills with blue light. The holoscreens have died, and the room appears just as the rest of the city’s white plasteel walls had. The room has an eerie silence, only disrupted by the waves slapping against the pool walls. Obi-Wan cautiously makes his way to the stairs, lightsaber in one hand, Satine’s in the other. They stand at the edge of the pool, Obi-Wan wringing what he can out of his uniform, while Satine pulls on her outerwear over her suit. Holding his lightsaber over his head like a torch, he checks his comlink.

“Master Qui-Gon, can you hear me?” He asks. The comlink gurgles a reply through the waterlogged speakers. He wipes the device off on his dry robe.

“Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon calls from the other side. His voice is obscured from the alarms going off wherever he resides.

“We’re all right, the Duchess and I-” Obi-Wan is cut off.

“This line might not be secure. Don’t give me your position. Just find a way to safety. We’ll reconvene when we can.” Qui-Gon’s line goes dead. Obi-Wan pockets the device.

“There’s only one door in this room, right?” He asks. In the glow of his weapon, he sees Satine nod. He offers her his robe. “Take this. You can’t be seen.” She dons the garment, pulling the hood over her head. Obi-Wan makes quick work of the door, slicing away a space that they can slip through. In the hallway, the red glow of the emergency lights light the area. An alarm blares down the hallway. Obi-Wan keeps his lightsaber ignited, leading the way with Satine close behind.

They reach the main hallway. The door slides open, and a cloud of smoke engulfs them. They hold the sleeves of their robes to their faces, squinting in the smoke to see what’s ahead of them. The smoke is coming from Satine’s room, which appears blown open from the inside. This explosion was meant for her. Obi-Wan takes a step backwards, pushing Satine towards the doors they had just came through. A blaster shot fires through the hall, scoring an area on the wall nearby Obi-Wan’s head.

“Go!” he coughs over the smoke, urging Satine back the way they’d came as he deflects the oncoming fire. The door slides shut behind them, and they break into a sprint down the empty hallway. He hears the doors open again, and he looks back. Three figures pursue them, dressed in tattered Mandalorian armor. Obi-Wan deflects their blasts with his lightsaber as he runs.

They round the corner, rushing through a blast door. Obi-Wan slashes his saber through the doorpad, locking their assailants out for a short time. They’ve reached an outer hallway, the glass displaying the endless night sky before them. The only lights in the area are the red emergency lights and the moons above Bespin.

“We need to get to the docks.” Satine says, looking up into the moonlight. “Follow me.” She takes off down the hallway, Obi-Wan not a step behind, weapon drawn. “There should be an emergency speeder up here,” She informs, rounding the perimeter of the structure. They turn the corner and come into view of two Mandalorians, blasters aimed and headed their way.

“Guess not,” Obi-Wan comments, skidding to a stop. He spots a maintenance door on the inside wall, turns to it, and slashes his saber through the metal as the assassins begin firing. They jump inside, and Obi-Wan shifts the metal back into place with the Force. He takes one last moment to cut down a support beam, further blocking the entry of their attackers. They continue down the hallway, deeper into Cloud City’s inner workings. The maintenance alley is dimly lit, wet, and nothing like the outer walls of the city. Everything is black durasteel, slightly rusty in areas that haven’t been recently renovated.

“Any idea where we’re headed?” Satine asks.

“I’m a little busy trying to get _away_ from somewhere.” Obi-Wan replies. The hallway soon becomes littered with spart sheets of metal, loose wires, and abandoned droids, forcing them to walk. They quickly pick their way through the wreckage, overly aware of the footsteps they hear behind them. There’s an emergency hatch, and Obi-Wan kicks it open, revealing the inner wiring and plumbing of the city.

“Down here,” He says. “If we can find our way to the lower docks we can get a speeder and make it up to our ship.” They’re closer to the bottom of the city than the top. The lower docks are smaller and less often used, but there might be something they can use to rendezvous with Qui-Gon. Satine goes first, and Obi-Wan closes the hatch. They move down the metal ladder as quickly as they can without making too much noise. At Obi-Wan’s signal, they stay as still as possible, hoping their attackers will continue down the hallway without them. He deactivates his lightsaber, the familiar hum dying as he clips it to his belt. It’s silent save for the various machinery that surrounds them. They can hear footsteps, running, then stopping above their heads. After a moment, they continue moving. The two breathe a sigh of relief.

The explosion knocks them both to the ground. A few feet away the ceiling collapses, tearing through layers of metal and piping. The surface they crouch on gives away, and they find themselves falling. Obi-Wan grabs the first solid thing he can get his hands on: a broken section of the ladder they had used earlier. The metal digs into his bicep as he tries to curve his arm around it. Satine catches herself on the same piece further down, arms locked tight and feet scrambling for purchase. They hang opposite each other, suspended above an empty expanse of sky.

They’ve reached an under-city passageway. Meant for shuttles and speeder-taxis, the area contains an inner wall of plasteel, an outside-facing wall of glass, and an open bottom, allowing ships to enter and exit the passageway with ease. There’s nothing around them save for a large fan imposed on the inner wall, its diameter easily twice their height. The fan moves at a steady pace.

Satine takes one peek at the clouds that lay below and shrinks back against the ladder. “Oh _Force_ ,” her voice wavers. Her legs still sway freely, the end of the ladder only going to about her knees. There’s a tear in the fabric of her pants, and a long bloody scrape stretches up the length of her leg.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Obi-Wan says, for his own reassurance as well as hers. “Satine, you need to make your way up here.” Satine looks to where he is, several rungs above. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Obi-Wan reaches out an arm, channeling the Force to aid in her climbing. He’s able to lift her just slightly as she slowly climbs to his position. She falters when she puts weight on her injured leg, the blood making her feet slip on the metal. The ladder sways, but the structure holds.

They stay like this for a moment, Satine now across from Obi-Wan. The platform they had fallen from is still too high to reach. Satine has her eyes closed, hugging the ladder as tight as she can. He can hear Satine’s heartbeat against his own, both pumping upbeat, frantic cadences. However her breathing is calm, collected. Satine shifts, looking up over his shoulder.

“Oh no,” She whispers. “ _No!_ ”

A blaster shot singes into Obi-Wan’s side. He grunts, the ladder shuddering dangerously. His breathing goes ragged. He glances behind him.

Through the fan, down the hallway, on the other side of a second fan, is an assassin. The spaces between the blades are too small for them to get through, but their blaster is trained on them, waiting for the moment when they can fire a shot between the blades. With a shaking hand, Obi-Wan draws his lightsaber. He squints open his eyes, staring back at the assassin, waiting for them to fire again. Obi-Wan deflects the next two shots.

Satine reaches into Obi-Wan’s pocket, withdrawing his comlink. “It’s been compromised!” Obi-Wan hisses. The pain in his side is excruciating. He finds he can’t even focus on Satine’s face, inches from his own.

“We don’t know that!” Satine whispers back. “What choice do we have?” Another shot, deflected back towards the fans. It leaves a scorch mark on one of the blades. He tries to make himself bigger, blocking Satine from the blasterfire. She switches the link to the open channel before holding the comlink to her mouth. She takes a few breaths to calm herself before speaking.

“I’m inquiring after a Mr. Jinn,” Satine’s voice is low and rough. She sounds completely at ease, speaking into the device like she were in the comfort of her own home. “There’s a speeder licensed under your name that must be removed from sector 4E on the lower docks. Again, that is a Mr. Jinn. Apologies for the inconvenience.”

“Please keep this channel open,” a voice replies. “There is an emergency in the midrange and we need all channels available for broadcast.” Satine doesn’t respond, taking a shuddering breath. Her illusion of calm has shattered. She looks over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Their pursuer hasn’t moved.

“They have to be out of grenades.” She comments. “And they must not know a way closer to us.” She looks to Obi-Wan. His face is pale, and he’s broken out in a cold sweat. “Obi, just hold on a little longer…” Satine doesn’t look all that better. He only partially hears her, entire attention trained on shielding her from their attacker. His breathing is hitching, his hold on the ladder starting to become shaky. Another shot fires, striking Obi-Wan in his shoulder. He curses in pain. His vision is becoming blurry, and he struggles to stay alert to their attacker. With nothing to fire back with, it’s only a matter of moments until they fire a fatal shot.

Bright lights appear around the bend of the passageway. The sleek dark metal of a Mandalorian starfighter cruises into view. The wind from the ship chills Obi-Wan to the bone, his wounds pulsing with heat compared to the cold of his body. Another shot is sloppily deflected. The starfighter coasts underneath them, weapons turning towards the fans. The top opens up as the ship fires into the fans, blocking out the shooter. The last thing Obi-Wan remembers is falling into the arms of his Master.


	9. Chapter 9

He appears beside Yoda. The night sky is alight with fireworks, celebration coloring the night with brilliant hues of all sorts. From his position in the woods he can see Luke, leaning against a tree, watching them from afar. In the background he gets a small glimpse of the boy’s sister. They’re both _so_ happy. In the air, a sense of calm washes over the crowd. A deep, full feeling that peace has returned. The Force is quiet, no longer draining as it had during his time as a Jedi, no longer malicious and tainted like his time as an exile.

But they aren’t alone. Fading into view, beside Yoda, is a man Obi-Wan does not recognize. But he knows that the person who’s standing among them, the person smiling at Luke, is none other than Anakin Skywalker, Vader no more. He looks up to Obi-Wan, smiles. His hair may have thinned, his eyes tired, but it’s the same man Obi-Wan had trained as a boy.

His chest swells. Because it’s been so long. And it pains him to know that peace won’t reach the galaxy until long after they’re gone. But there’s hope. It exists with Anakin’s children, strewn across the galaxy, but somehow able to find each other again against all odds. It exists with the fall of the Empire, with the celebration on Endor. It exists, now that Anakin stands at their side. Their sacrifices, their decisions, they were worth something. And although they might not be able to be a part of that new dawn, they know, at least for now, that they had been a part of bringing peace to the galaxy.

 

This scene plays out, over and over, for the next couple days. Obi-Wan awakes in a medbay, the lights blinding him momentarily before he’s able to take in his surroundings.  He reeks of bacta, a greasy film of it still coating his entire body. The room is cramped, with two more beds and a bacta tank between where he lays and the door. In the corner, a medical droid attends to the holoscreens displaying his vital signs. The familiar hum beyond the walls tells him they must be in hyperspace. He’s wearing a medical gown, the insignia of Mandalore patterned on the chest.

He takes a few moments regaining his footing. His ears feel clogged, his mouth dry. The vision appears in the back of his mind, but he fears he’s lost all meaning to it. He assumes one of the men was this ‘Luke’ person he had been imagining, but other than that, he can’t make any connections. He can only recall a sense of calm, a sense of peace, obtained long after he’s passed.

After a bit he shifts to sit up and feels a twinge of pain in his lower back and left shoulder. He peeks under the gown at the wound. It’s healed, and a thick blaster scar rests where he was shot. Compared to what could have happened, a scar is nothing to be concerned of.

The droid presses a button on the console. “Patient shows signs of consciousness.” It buzzes. “Visitors can proceed. One at a time, please.” Several minutes later, the door slides open.

Satine waits until the door has shut behind her before she rushes to his side. She’s clad in loose fitting pants and a flowing long-sleeved top, all shades of blue. It’s so different to her formalwear, she’s probably not supposed to be seeing others presented like this. She pauses at his side before sitting on the edge of his bed. He moves over, feeling another protest from his injuries.

Satine opens her mouth a few times, seemingly unable to find the right words. “Hi,” Obi-Wan smiles. Satine sighs, smiling.

“Hello, Obi.” She replies. He feels his face color at her words.

“Where are we?” He asks.

“Headed to Mandalore.” She explains. “In a ship with enough firepower that our enemies wouldn’t dare attempt anything.” A pause. “It’s been decided that I’m safer back on planet, now that the fighting there has subsided.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Obi-Wan comments. “We haven’t really been the champions for tranquility lately.”

Satine huffs out a laugh. She sets her hand on his. “I want to thank you.” She starts. He closes his hand around hers. “For everything.”

“Of course,” He replies, confused at her tone. She’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. There’s a sadness about her. Of goodbyes, of endings. Satine brings his hand up to her lips, kissing it lightly. Before he can say anything, she stands.

“If you’re up for it, dinner will be served in the dining area.” Another sad smile. She exits the room, leaving him alone with the medical droid. No more than a minute later, Qui-Gon enters.

“Glad to see you awake,” He says, stopping by his side. Obi-Wan tries to sit himself up higher, but the Jedi Master still looms over him. “How are you feeling?”

“Could be better,” Obi-Wan responds. “A shower would be nice. Perhaps a real bed.” He shifts uncomfortably on the cot for emphasis.

“You’ll have all of that once we’re back on Coruscant.” Qui-Gon replies. Obi-Wan looks to his Master, confused.

“Surely we can’t leave the Duchess alone now that she’s been attacked.”

“We’re being reassigned. You will need time to rest.”

“Master I am more than capable-”

“-Besides, you should begin preparing for your trials.” Qui-Gon smiles. “You have more than proved yourself ready to be knighted. You’ve made me very proud.” A Jedi Knight. It’s a title Obi-Wan has longed for ever since he was a child. But now, he hesitates.

“How much longer until we reach Mandalore?” He asks.

“We should reach Sundari within half a rotation.” The Master stands, making his way to the door. He pauses, turning back to his Padawan. “What did you think of Cloud City?” Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, gaze dropping to his hand.

“It was unforgettable.”

After his final medical checks are complete, Obi-Wan wanders his way to his room. It takes longer than he imagined - he had underestimated the sheer size of this ship. He showers the remaining bacta off, pausing in the mirror to look at his new scars. On a seemingly unscathed body, the two welts stand out strong. He carefully traces his fingers over them, still tender from the recent healing.

Obi-Wan finds new robes for himself, clipping on his lightsaber to the new belt. By now he’s sure he’s missed dinner, but because of his recent time on life support, he doesn’t feel the need to eat. He imagines they have about six hours until they reach Mandalore. He sits in his room, unsure where to go within the maze of the ship. The room is not nearly as exquisite as his one at Cloud City, but it’s far fancier than any other transport ship he’s been on. The room contains a bed, a desk, and two chairs and a couch circled around a caf table. Across from the couch, there’s a holoscreen, deactivated at the moment. The few lamps throw long shadows in the room. The walls are a dark blue, but appear violent in the deep orange light.

He senses someone at the door, and waits for them to speak into the doorpad. When he hears nothing, he approaches the entrance. The door slides open, and Satine stands on the other side. She looks embarrassed, like she’s been caught in the act.

“I would have come to you,” Obi-Wan breaks the silence. “Had I known the way.” Satine smiles, and Obi-Wan steps out of the way for her to come in. She takes her time walking around the room, despite the lack of decoration to observe.

“I’ve heard you’re going to be knighted.” Satine comments.

“Not yet, I still have to face the trials.” Obi-Wan replies, eyes trained on her as she slowly circles the room.

She turns to him. “I think you’ll make a perfect Jedi Knight.” He smirks.

“A bold statement.” He raises his brow. “How many Jedi do you know?”

“I know your Master,” Satine counters. “You take after him. You’re reckless,” Obi-Wan shoots her a look. “And kind.” His expression softens.

Obi-Wan turns to sit on the couch. “Good.” He sighs. “I need an easier profession. Politics is getting to be a little too dangerous for me.” Satine laughs, joining him on the couch.

A comfortable silence falls over the room. Satine edges closer, leaning to rest her head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He pushes any thoughts of their parting from his mind. He keeps his focus here and now. Because if he starts to think about it, about how this may be his last night with Satine, thoughts will start to grow in his mind. Ridiculous, improbable thoughts that would defy the causes they’ve lived all their lives devoted to. Satine runs her thumb back and forth their clasped hands. He wonders if any of these thoughts have crossed her mind.

“We’ll meet again,” She breaks the silence. “I can feel it.” He can never tell what non-Force users mean when they say things like that. Is it hope? Is it the Force, reaching out to them despite their inability to feel its pull? He can’t even discern his own thoughts and feelings from the mysterious power at this point. He desperately wants to believe what she says is true.

Obi-Wan squeezes her hand lightly. “I will miss your presence.” He says. It’s the closest to a confession he feels he’s allowed to give.

“As will I,” she responds. Another few minutes of silence. Satine turns to press her lips to his injured shoulder. “I have to return. I told the guard I was only out for a short walk.” Of course, she had given herself a reason not to stay. She couldn’t trust her own emotions either. She stands, and Obi-Wan feels the chill at his side without her there. He follows her to the door, where she stops, just barely out of reach from the door’s sensors. She turns back to him, where he stands, too close.

He leans down, pressing his lips to hers delicately, hand wrapping around her waist to pull her in close. Her hand rests against his chest. The second kiss is longer, harder. They stand for a moment, foreheads resting against each other, until Satine pulls away, exiting the room and leaving Obi-Wan standing alone in the low light.

Sleep does not come easily that night. Words he wanted to say, words that might change the course of his lifetime, rest on the tip of his tongue. And that vision, the one where he stands happily among strangers, with that deep feeling of peace, resides just beyond his eyelids.

 

This time it’s different. No muggy swamps of Dagobah, no freezing winds of Hoth. Obi-Wan stands alone, in an empty expanse of blinding white. He feels like he was just on Endor, watching Luke celebrate with his friends, his new family, but at the same time, he was on that ship with Satine, so long ago.

He hears a noise behind him, and he spins in his spot.

She stands several yards from him, looking almost ethereal against the bright white of the area. She wears a dark blue top, dotted and accented with turquoise. It’s familiar, it’s heartbreaking.

It’s what Satine died in.

“Satine…” Obi-Wan can barely get her name out before his eyes get glassy. She smiles. She’s so much older than that time on the ship. Her hair is shorter than when she was younger, and her eyes crinkle with her smile. He must look ancient to her. The years she never got to live weigh on him heavily.

“Hello, Obi.” She says. He feels frozen in his spot, and she approaches him slowly.

“I must look so old to you.” He huffs out a laugh. “It’s been so long.”

“You don’t look so bad,” Satine replies. She reaches out, brushing the wispy grey hairs out of his eyes, hand resting on his cheek. He can feel a warmth grow from her touch, making his body go numb and sucking the air from his lungs. His hair thickens, his skin tightens, and he appears, just as he had the last moment he saw her. “It’s been more recent than you think.” He doesn’t know what to do, can’t bear to think about how this was the last time they had seen each other, so many years ago. But the times blur, he feels everywhere at once. On that ship, sleeping fitfully, his last night with her. Standing beside Anakin and Yoda, watching peace return to the galaxy. And on Mandalore, being dragged away from her lifeless body.

“You were so brave,” He manages to say. She bring her other hand up to his neck, delicately cradling his head in her hands.

“And you were so dedicated,” She replies. “So kind.”

He shuts his eyes. “I’m just trying to do what’s right.” He whispers. He knows he has to let her go. Knows that she wouldn’t have it any other way. But it kills him inside, knowing this is the way things must go.

“I know, Obi. I know.” They rest their foreheads together, and he wraps his arms around her. And she’s real, oh Force, she’s so real. And he hates that his only time holding her like this was when she let out her last breaths. She presses a kiss to his forehead, and he feels her slipping away. He’s fading, falling back in time to the day he had to let her go.

“I’ve loved you,” he admits, fearing he won’t be able to finish his words before she’s gone. “I’ve loved you all my life.”

“To the end of time and beyond,” She replies. He opens his eyes. They’re both blurring into the background. “We’ll meet again, I can feel it.” The last thing he sees is her smile, fading into nothing.

 

Obi-Wan feels like he was only out for a few minutes, but when we awakes, he feels the undeniable stillness of a ship docked on planet. His mind is blank, he can’t even tell if Satine entering his room late at night was a dream or not. He dresses, overhearing the ship announcing its arrival on Mandalore. Qui-Gon meets him at the door, helping him navigate the halls to the landing ramp. They meet Satine at the exit. She’s wearing an incredibly intricate outfit, far more detailed than anything she has had since their first departure from Mandalore. Her hair is up, curled and secured behind a headpiece of curved white flowers. She nods her head in their direction, and they take her side as they exit the ship.

There’s a small crowd of people surrounding the ship when they exit. Some clap, others just watch as the Jedi make their way across the platform with the Duchess. Two rows of armored guards line the way from her ship to Sundari’s main capitol building. When they reach the doors, Qui-Gon departs to talk to one of the members of the ground staff. Obi-Wan walks for just a bit longer with Satine, holding her hand as he leads her up the steps to the building, before stopping. When she notices his halt, she turns toward him.

“Surely you’ll be joining us for the ceremony.” Satine says, confused look on her face. “They’ll want to honor you.”

“I’m afraid that’s not the Jedi way.” Obi-Wan replies. “Credit the Order, not the individual.” Satine’s shoulders sink a little. From the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan can see Qui-Gon waiting.

“Then this is farewell,” She states. _For now._ It’s on the tip of her tongue, he can feel it. There’s a moment when he thinks he’ll throw everything away. Because she’s perfect. She’s smart and challenging and so dedicated to the things she loves. But that’s the very reason why he can’t say so. Satine’s looking at him with a fire in her eyes. Her thoughts flying at lightspeed, so sure in her ways, so determined to bring real change to the world.

But at the same time, he knows, somewhere in the back of her mind, she’s questioning it. He knows if he asks her, she’ll run away with him, right here, right now, but he knows she also has a love for her people, a love that will ruin her if she leaves it behind. In the end, he leaves the decision up to her.

“Until we meet again,” he replies, raising her hand to kiss it. Satine blushes. This is public. This is _dangerous._ Her fellow council members stay just out of earshot, waiting for her to continue on.

“Obi…” She silences herself. He looks up at her from his position, half bowed before her. They feel the pull of their separate paths, the currents they’ve ridden all their lives, but they hold steady for one last moment.

“Duchess,” he regards her, standing up straight. She holds her hand, thumb absentmindedly stroking the skin. A keen smile forms on her lips, just before she turns away.

“Kenobi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Writing this helped me put a little peace to Satine's canon ending, and I hope that I was able to give these characters justice. Thanks for sticking with me ;x


End file.
